Miki: Fragments
by Gajzla
Summary: Having recently awoken in hospital, minus a hand, Miki Miura's life seems to be coming apart at the seams. Now with the accident a mystery locked somewhere inside her head, and a new school on the horizon, Miki will be forced to make new friends, while coming to terms with the facts of her past.
1. Hospitals suck

I open my eyes slowly. _Where the hell am I?_ Woken by the soft beeps of what is mistakenly a heart rate monitor I blink furiously against the blinding sunlight; soon my eyes have adjusted enough to give a slightly hazy view of the room. _Oh._

The walls painted in a cool white are interspersed with pastel colour paintings, that I assume someone imagines to be relaxing, a soft wind rolls though the window, parting the cream curtains and gently rocking the tubes that run down a drip bag before vanishing into my arm.

_Did I drink last night?_

I don't remember, I left for school on Friday morning and now, this. Trying to sit up I'm hit by a dagger of pain in my side, forcing me back onto the bed, I breathe heavily, the pain subsiding into a dull ache. _What the hell?_ All my senses start to come back, as if I were a computer being rebooted.

Lifting my left hand my vision is filled with thick white bandages, contrasting harshly with my dark skin. I blink a few times trying to understand what I'm seeing. _My hand is gone?_ I jump in surprise, causing another wave of angry pain from my protesting body.

_What the hell? What the Hell!_

This has to be a dream, I start to calm feeling relief rushing through me. It makes perfect sense, not remember what happened, no one else being here, this is a dream. So all I need to do is wake up.

… _Nothing._

Just wake up. _Please?_

I start to scream, I don't even realise I'm doing it as I clutch my arm to my chest. This can't be happening. _Oh don't let this be real._ A door slams open followed by the squeak of leather shoes on vinyl flooring.

"Miss Miura?" A panicked voice asks from what seems like a million miles away.

"W..what the hell I… is going on?" My throat is so dry it feels like I've swallowed a beach, I can barely form coherent words.

"You've been involved in an accident," he says pouring me a drink from the jug on my bedside table, before helping me to drink. Even so I spill water down my chin and onto my chest, its freezing. His eyes follow the trail before looking away quickly, I almost want to laugh. _Does he really think I'm worried about modesty right now?_

"What h… happened?"

"I'm afraid I don't know, you were rushed in with incomplete paperwork," he seems to realise what he just said. "But I can ensure you that medically everything has been handled professorially."

"My hand?" I ask, this is beyond surreal.

"Yes, I'm afraid despite our best efforts it could not be saved. However, many people in your condition live full and rich lives." _Is it just me, or does not even he believe his own words?_

"My side?"

Looking perplexed he picks up my chart from the end of the bed, disappearing behind it all I can see is a tuft of untidy red hair. Lowering the clipboard his golden eyes bulge slightly. "It would appear you also cracked three of your ribs and," He checks the chart again. "Yes, you bruised your hip. Err, sorry about that."

So I've lost my hand, and the doctor is as surprised by all this as I am. Figures, people are useless. _Even with white coats and flashy jobs._

"Couldn't I get a transplant hand? You can get a new heart can't you?" The words seem hopeless as soon as they leave my mouth. _It can't just be a case of you lost your hand, too bad. Can it?_

"I'm afraid it does not work like that," trying and failing to be subtle he checks his watch. "Listen I have to get to another patient, I'm not really scheduled to be here you see," he says apologetically.

I thank him for his time and watch as he leave the room. _My manners are ingrained into my being, despite how I might be feeling._ Before he left he mentioned he would send some nurses to attend to me, but if they are as useless as he was they can stay away.

— — —

My time passes numbly between watching television, sleeping and being poked and prodded by every white coated maniac that seems to be feeling bored. Thankfully I'm able to walk short distances only after a few days of being bed ridden. _I never want to be pushed around in a wheelchair again._ So I can add wandering the halls to my list of activities.

Never having any visitors, I think the staff are feeling sorry for me, doing my best to wave off their concerns I think about my family. Dad's not around, apparently in prison but I have no idea, and mum? Well she's either drunk, asleep or both. _I don't care that much, but she at least could have put the bottle down for one visit?_

I'm surprised my grandfather has not arrived yet, then again he has been growing increasingly fed up with my lacklustre behaviour at school. I'm not to blame this time though, surely? I still can't remember anything after nearly a week, this at least seems to keep the doctors entertained. After throwing me in a white tube that makes a sound like a old car trying to change gear they conclude that there is nothing wrong with my head, and with luck my memories should return by themselves.

_I don't think I care honestly, my life is over one way or another. Knowing more details would just depress me._

With the days growing increasingly longer my pain is slowly replaced by boredom. I'm still in quite a lot of discomfit of course, but it's faded into the background like music at a restaurant. That is until my left hand starts to burn uncontrollably causing teeth clenching pain, apparently this is phantom limb pain and its quite normal, explained my new friend the physical therapist. A women who is so cheerful it makes me cringe.

"Good afternoon Miss Miura," A nurse walks into my room unannounced, pulling me out of my depressing whirlwind of thoughts. "How are we feeling today?"

"Bored and in pain," I say grumpily, not moving my eyes from the television. Though I'm not really watching it.

"Well then this will cheer you up."

I'm handed a pink flowery envelope, turning it over shows my name but gives no clue as to the sender. Intrigued I clamp the letter between my knees. _Bottled orange juice seemed lost to me forever until I learned this trick._ Tearing the letter open I'm greeted by a wall of signatures and small notes. _A message from school?_

Ignoring the nurse, who starts to prepare my pills I read through the messages. Each is more bland and generic as the last, this wasn't some kind-hearted attempt to cheer me up, it was a class project. Well I hope they had fun. I go to place the card on the nightstand, when I notice a message tucked into the bottom corner.

'Miki, please be safe and come back to us soon! - Everyone at the track club.'

I smile softly, taking the little paper cup containing an assortment of pills to reduce pain and swelling. Choking back the pills I grab a glass of lukewarm water to wash away the chalky aftertaste.

"There we go, told you that would cheer you up!" The nurse beams at me.

"Yeah," I say with a shrug. I guess the track team writing did cheer me up, running is about the only thing I'm any good at. _Well running and getting into trouble._

— — —

"Come on, move it or lose it sister," the physical therapist says, herding me towards her torture chamber. Her Australian accent just detectable, why she would come to Japan I have no idea. _Perhaps she was a tourist who got lost and just decided to stay here?_

"I've already lost it," I sneer, falling into a reluctant step beside her.

Her teeth flash as she shoots me a glowing smile. Some people smile with their mouths, she smiles with her entire freckled face. "Miss Miki, you've only lost what you're willing to give up, now get a move on."

"You're too cheerful," I complain.

"Well one of us has to be, have you been working on your stretching?" Her blonde haired head bounces with each enthusiastic step.

I sigh, "Of course Miss Montrose." _Like hell I have._

"That's good, we can work you extra hard today now you're all limbered up," She opens the door to the therapy suite, grinning at me. "Oh and call me Julie."

— — —

My grandfather finally arrives on my thirteenth day of hospital incarceration, to find me lazing in my visitors chair, my legs propped on the bed. We watch each other for a long moment, he takes in my messy hair, thinning frame and obvious bandaged stump with a frown.

"Hello Miki." His voice has a low rumbling mummer to it. Standing before me he looks the same as ever, a mane of greying purple hair framing his soft leather face. It's still possible to make out the outline of muscle below his plain white shirt. To some he would be intimidating. _To me he's just granddad._

"I didn't think you would come," I raise my eyebrow at him.

"I've been away on business, I was hoping it was possible to leave you for two weeks without you getting into trouble."

Shrugging I move my feet to give him somewhere to sit. "How's mum?" I ask.

"Doing well, it's you I'm worried about."

"I'm fine," I blatantly lie.

"Doesn't look like that to me." He chuckles lightly taking a seat. _I'm glad he came._

"I guess not," I pause before continuing. "I've really messed up this time haven't I?"

He considers me for a moment, before shaking his head slowly.

"This perhaps was not one of your best moves, although, perhaps this is fact an opportunity"

"Opportunity?" I remark, trying to scratch a hand that is no longer there. Damn it.  
"Well, just take a look."

He hands me a clearly well-read pale green and beige pamphlet. On closer inspection it turns out to be information on a school. Yamaku Academy? Flicking through the pages certain words start to jump out at me. 'Specialist care', '24/7 nursing staff', 'inclusive environment'. _Wait, Is this what I think it is?_

"This is a school for the disabled?" I say, flabbergasted.

He nods slowly, going to say something, but I cut him off.

"I am not disabled!"

"Well, I'm afraid by almost every legal definition you are," he says calmly.

_Great, just great._

"And how is this an opportunity exactly?"

"They have a reputation for academic excellence." he smiles brightly.

"So that rules me out then." I groan. My schoolwork is fine, I guess. It just never holds my interest for long. _I could do better if I could take my lessons in short sprints instead of long boring marathons._

"I believe you will surprise yourself, and me, given a chance."

I would continue to argue, but we're interrupted by the nurse pushing her squeaking medicine cart into the room. She looks shocked to see I have a visitor, momentarily speechless.

"I have to have my bandages changed now." I sigh, hoping he gets the message.

Luckily being a layer for a number of years nothing slips past my grandfather, rising to his feet with the grace of a much younger man he bows to the nurse, before turning to me.

"I'll be back later Miki, okay?"

I nod solemnly.

"Don't fret dear, not all change is bad."


	2. Midnight Run

My hand feels like it's being crushed between two molten plates, I groan into my pillow forcing the stump into my stomach. The pressure brings with it another wave of pain, but its impossible to tell if it's real or just phantom. I've been out of the hospital for six weeks now, I was told when I left to get plenty of bed rest, ha, a chance would be a fine thing. Between trying to figure out what happened, weekly physical therapy appointments and trying to help out at home I have seldom got more than a few hours sleep.

Stump still clutched to my stomach I sit up, gazing over to the green illuminated alarm clock on my bedside table.

2:14 am

I grab for a pill bottle that sits beside the clock, only to find its empty, I swear under my breathe. At least I didn't knock the bottle flying trying to grab it with the wrong hand, I have slowly but surely been gravitating my entire life to my right hand side.

Standing up I glance at myself in the mirror, even lit by moonlight I look a state, my long hair a fuzzy mess framing the bags under my eyes nicely. In the silver light the bandages on my arm seem to glow, I turn away quickly. The phantom pain slowly starts to disperse back into the void from whence it came. I breathe a sigh of relief, normally the attacks are intense but short lived. While I was in hospital I heard stories of pains lasting hours and even days, I can't even imagine what that would be like.

I consider a shower, but that means taking the bandage off my stump, not an appealing thought. A bath then, but if i'm honest I don't want to spend another moment being still. A peek out of the window shows a dark world bathed in soft orange streetlights. A grin crosses my lips as I start to pull on a pair of black track suit bottoms, the crumpled T-shirt I've been sleeping in will do fine for this. Sliding socks on one handed proves to be a challenge, but is nothing when compared to tying the laces on my trainers.

"I will not," I loop the first side of the lace and pin it under my stump.

"Be beaten," gasping I push the next loop under the stump with the first.

"By string." With a last grunt and some deft finger work I manage to get my laces tied. I heave a sign of relief, before noticing I still have a shoe to tie.

"Shit"

Before I leave my room I glance down at the Yamaku leaflet, next week I will be traveling half way across the country to a school I've never even heard of to be with people… people like me? Ha, there is no way you could have a school full of Miki's it would have burned to the ground within the first week.

I cross the dimly lit living area in three strides, then pause. My mum lays passed out on our threadbare sofa. Looking at her it's hard to believe she's not yet forty. Her hair once my dark purple is faded, grey roots starting to show through. Dark bags under her eyes reflect many restless nights. Since I came out of hospital she has made a real effort to help me. She's not the perfect mother, but she's mine.

I lay a blanket over her peacefully sleeping frame and pick up a half empty bottle of shochu from the floor. Would she mind? I don't think she would even notice if I took it, my non existent hand prickles uncomfortably. I place the bottle on the kitchen counter, but I can't quite look away.

I stare at the opaque liquid in the bottle for a few long moments, did I drink before the accident? It would not be that strange to liberate a bottle from my mother before going out to meet my friends. Well I say friends, they were mostly seniors from another school, people I thought were cool. Not like at my own school, everyone there seemed so focused on their studies, I never really got on with any of them. In the clear light of dawn I see these cool people only cared about me because I brought them booze. Not one of them sent me so much as a text message since the accident.

Stepping out into the cold night I let an excited shiver run up my spine. I have always liked this time of night, it feels strangely rebellious to be out when everyone else is tucked up safely in bed. The quiet air feels restless, waiting for a sound that during the day would go unnoticed but now can shatter a world of peace. My eyes scan up and down the street, finally settling on a tree at the very end of the road. I run, eyes fixed on the tree, that is my goal, I will not stop until I reach it. Nothing else matters now, I fly towards my target, for the first time in weeks I am free.


	3. Day One

Quiet farmland slides passed the car window, as I lay my forehead against the cool glass. Grandad points out interesting landmarks, interesting to him at least, and comments on the weather. Having started overcast and foggy it looked this morning as if it would be a miserable day, but now the sun has burned away the mist to reveal a bright blue sky.

"Mmmhmm," I mumble when required.

"Did you remember to pack everything?"

"Every last item of clothing I own, couldn't fit the kitchen sink though, think I'll need it?" My response is met by a wide grin.

"I think second years are provided with a sink when they first arrive," he nods his shaggy head wisely, trying and failing to keep the smile off his face.

"Well that's a weight off my mind," I can't help but giggle.

We fall back into comfortable silence. As time passes the green country side is gradually replaced with sprawling traditional suburbs.

"Do you remember anything?" His question shatters the silence.

"No," I still can't remember more than I did a week ago.

"Miki, this won't be an option for long, they want you to meet with a therapist at the school, to help you come to terms with the incident." His tone is stern, more lawyer than grandfather.

"Who wants me to meet with a therapist?" My eyes narrow, he wouldn't do this to me, right? He knows I don't like people asking me questions, or judging what they don't understand.

"The police," He sighs. "They need a wit-"

"You told me you spoke with them?" I interrupt.

"I did, I explained your condition, I pulled some strings, very big strings if I'm honest," A flash of regret touches his face, almost to fast to catch. "But they need your witness statement, the crash wa-"

I interrupt him again, raising my voice to almost a shout.

"Don't tell me!"

"Why? Why don't you want to know Miki? Forgetting this won't make it go away."

Its a good question, I have spent hours trying to pick out some little detail about what happened. Of course someone else will know, but at the same time I need to remember for myself. I'm afraid that someone else's memory of the accident will become my own, that in my own mind I will never know for sure how I lost my hand.

"Nothing is real, not if I can't remember it for myself." I say stubbornly.

"No one is going to lie to you"

"I just want to be sure I know what happened, not someone else's best guess."

"Asking for help is not a sign of weakness Miki, one day you will learn that."

Nothing else is said, we weave deeper into the dense city streets. Images of car crashes flittering across my minds eye, like a bad action movie montage. An image of being pulled lifeless from a crumpled car to the soundtrack of my mothers sobs snaps me out of my reverie.

"You will keep an eye on mum won't you?" I ask, looking up into those sparkling brown eyes.

"Of course Miki, don't you worry about your mum," he considers for a moment before finishing. "I think I might have found her a housekeeper."

I groan internally, I don't mind my mum getting help at home, I don't even think its a bad idea, but a stranger? Someone clueless who will judge. I am not ashamed or embarrassed by my mum. But someone else might be, and that bothers me more than it should.

"Do you trust this person?" I ask.

"Completely."

Well if this person is good enough for him; at least she won't be alone. Mum and me have looked out for each other for as long as I can remember. She might not always be around when I need her, but she cares, thats what matters. She tries harder than any parent I know, I guess some things are just easier to live with through a haze.

"Okay," I reply softly, and I mean it. This could be a fresh start for both of us. We return to our own minds as the traffic builds around us. My grandfather always seems to give me reassurance mixed with equal parts fresh worry when we talk.

\- - -

Our parting is simple, a one armed hug, a promise to be good and a wave as the train rattles away from the station.

I keep my stump hidden from curious eyes in the pocket of my hooded sweatshirt. This is one of the few times I have been around other people since the accident. I know people will stare, I know they will try and work out what happened. I would. Hell I still am trying to remember what happened.

The back of my missing left hand glows hot, as if someone was holding a lit match too close. forcing the stump into my stomach I press my forehead against the train window. Not here, not here, not here I repeat in my head desperately trying to focus on anything but crashing cars and ghost limbs.

-

I heave a contented sigh as I settle into my seat on the last overcrowded train of my trip. Battling through the last station was a nightmare of compressed bodies and narrow train connections. With some luck and a little, okay a lot, of pushing I make it just in time. The train rattles out of the platform and I close my eyes, learning my forehead against the window. Today has been exhausting and its barely even lunchtime.

Thinking about lunch I check on the boxed meal I brought at the station its a little squished, but I think it might just survive. The rest of the journey is relatively peaceful. At one point I have to quickly reveal my hidden stump to battle my way into my lunch. Hopefully no one noticed.

Stepping off the train in a sleepy town, the contrast to the last station is staggering. A gentle breeze flows along the platform, catching my hair and rustling unseen trees, peaceful is a good word for this place. Another way to look at it is that its a good out of the way place to hide all the cripple kids. _Bad Miki, you are one of the cripple kids, remember? _

I start down the platform battered pull along case in one hand, the other hidden safely in my pocket. Apparently I'm not the only teenager getting off at this stop. A boy gets off just ahead of me his messy mahogany hair caught in the same breeze that took mine. He starts to walk away from me along the platform, with a start I see he is missing his right arm. Though unlike me he is making no effort to hide it.

I follow him at a distance, I assume he's heading to Yamaku, unless he's just heading home, that would be embarrassing. Together we wind our way out of the station and through quiet streets, I notice a small market and a traditional looking tea room as we go. I am not sure if he's noticed me yet, in fact I hope he hasn't.

The town is even smaller than I first thought and we soon leave its boundaries to start up a fairly steep hill. They put the school for disabled kids at the top of a hill? someone must have a very dark sense of humour. Cars pass occasionally but otherwise the only sounds are two cases rattling. Suddenly the boy turns to me.

"Are you going to mug me? I warn you, Im armed!" He waves his stunted limb in the air for emphasises.

"W… what?" Im taken aback, I can't tell if he's being serious or not. Now facing me I notice his plump face is framed with thick glasses. He's also… chubby? Chunky? whats the right word. He's the kinda person my old group of friends would have made fun of.

"New to Yamaku?" He smiles widely, apparently pleased at having caught me off guard.

"Yeah," I remember my manners just in time, offering a bow, "Miura Miki."

He bows in return, the stupid smile still plastered on his face. I don't quite know why, but I feel myself relaxing around him.

"Kuromizu Ryouta, would you like some help finding your way Miss Miki?"

"If you're offering Mister Ryouta," I grin, he snorts with laughter, gesturing with his stump to follow him.

A little further up the hill we come across two large black cast iron gates, spread wide they welcome in a steady stream of people. With a pang I realise I'm looking at students accompanied by their parents. What strikes me is how normal everyone looks, I don't know what I expected, not this I guess.

"Welcome to Yamaku academy," my eccentric companion spreads his arms wide before the gates, drawing stares from nearly everyone in the area. I feel the heat of a blush in my cheeks as the small crowd turn their attention briefly to me. Together we stroll quickly into the school.

"So housing office first, you're boarding here right?" I nod, entering a large courtyard surrounded on all sides by large western style buildings. The structures look like something you might see on an American or European university campus.

"This place is bigger than I thought," I muse aloud.

"Nah thats just the staff building, the students have a shed out back."

I raise my eyebrows, perhaps keeping a serious expression for all of two seconds Ryouta bursts into raucous laughter, startling a girl who rolls passed us in a wheelchair. I am taken aback a little by two students waving their hands rapidly in front of them as we enter the housing office.

"Never seen sign language?" Ryouta asks, following my gaze. I shake my head, I've never seen it in person, but what else did I expect here?

"I tried it once, though no one seemed to know what I was on about, can't imagine why," Ryouta says, I'm not quite able to meet his gaze, he seems more than comfortable joking about his arm. I am not sure I could ever be that open. He seems to have noticed my discomfort.

"Hey, don't worry about it, everyone here deals with their problems in their own way," his brown eyes flicker to my arm that I haven't yet had the courage to take out of my pocket. "Now shall we find out where they intend to keep you?"

— — —

"Room 193 up on the first floor," the disgruntled looking caretaker hands me two keys attached to a tag showing the room number. "Replacements can be purchased from the office."

"Right, where do I get my uniform?" I ask, his eyes go wide for a moment before he picks up and begins to scan a long list.

"Right, right, yeah my mistake, here." he hands me a pile of clothes. Looking through the bundle I notice a couple of green skirts and a collection of white shirts. "Im afraid your stuck with boys shirts for now, there was a problem, come back next week."

"Kimura are you sure you're one hundred percent dedicated to this job?" Ryouta asks from beside me, a smirk on his face. I assume these two know each other, or else Im going to get thrown out of an office on my first day.

"This isn't my job, my job is groundkeeper, trees, grass, plants that kinda thing," he looks thoroughly put out, "I am here against my will, the normal women is sick." Ryouta nods in understanding, looking genuinely sympathetic to the groundskeeper's plight.

"Do you happen to know which classroom I am in?" I venture, hoping to get the last piece of information I need before these two start talking about how unfair the system is, like builders in a bar.

"2:3 with Mutou," Kimura reads from his list. Sitting down with a long sigh he looks between us, "Anything else?" We hasten to tell him we have everything we need. As I turn to leave I notice my predicament, with my new uniforms balanced on my arm its going to be extremely hard to pull my suitcase.

"Would you like some help?" I look at him a little startled, surely he has the same problem I do? Rolling his eyes he takes the uniforms out my hand, balancing them over his thin stunted arm. "You only have a problem until you can find an answer," he recites as if from memory.

We walk across the lavishly planted grounds, this must be the work of more than one groundskeeper. It really is amazing how fast the day has gone, given how worried I was this morning everything seems to have worked out okay. We take the lift up to the first floor of the girls dormitories, and only a brief while later we are standing outside my new room, neither of us move for a moment.

"You do know how keys work right? You've not lost it already?"

"You ever find you grate on people?" I smirk fetching out my key, to my dismay the smile has vanished from his face, in fact he looks hurt.

"Hey, whats up?" I ask, matching his worried look with my own.

"Nothing, just…" He trails off, "I think I'm a bit overbearing sometimes."

"Perhaps your a bit of a smart arse, but wanna know a secret?" I grin at him as he nods, mutely. "I like smart arses." The return of his smile is immediately satisfying. I manage to get the door open and without thinking reach out for my uniforms with my missing hand. To his credit Ryouta says nothing, placing the clothing delicately on my outstretched arm.

"Will I see you tomorrow?" He asks, his cheeks reddening just a little.

"I'd like that," I reply.

"Great, meet me in the cafeteria for breakfast, you know where it is?" I shake my head, "Better set off early to find it then." He grins from ear to ear, turning and walking away.

"Smart arse!" I call after him, before entering my room. Its spacious, bigger than my own room at home. The plain peach walls remind me a little of the hospital, I will have to remember to get some posters or something. I place my uniforms on the desk and lean the suitcase against the wardrobe. So this is home for the next two years? Could be worse. I peer out of the large window in time to see a plump boy pulling a suitcase across the grounds. Not all change is bad.


	4. Roller Coasters, Therapists and Unexpect

"I'm sorry there is no way that happened," I smirk, striding out into a bustling corridor. I've been at Yamaku for three days now. I wouldn't say I have settled in yet, but at least I found the cafeteria this morning on the first attempt.

"Honest, I lost it on a roller coaster," Ryouta declares from beside me. We have been meeting up fairly regularly for breakfast, lunch and even after classes at the end of the day. It feels strange connecting with someone so quickly, stranger still to connect with someone who seems to want nothing from me but my company.

"Ryouta, you did not lose a prosthetic hand on a roller coaster."

"I did, I did! I had to go to lost and found, I'm being completely honest." Ryouta's version of completely honest differs a little from everyone else's. We hug the left side of the stairs as we climb, this way I can keep my stump against the wall and out of sight. Beside me Ryouta sniggers, but says nothing. Another nice thing about him.

"So that's why you don't wear a prosthetic anymore?" I ask as we reach the top of the first flight of stairs.

"No, that was purely for the ladies," he nods wisely, oddly reminiscent of my grandfather.

"The Ladies?" I raise my eyebrows at him, I used to think this look was intimidating, but based on his fit of laughter apparently not. We stop outside of room 2:3, I still have a little time before class.

"You see I was worried they might think I was to much for them to handle, so I lost the hand so there would be less of me to handle, you see?"

"That is the stupidest thing I have ever heard," I try and look stern, but a grin betrays me. "Will I be seeing you for lunch? I won't need to get in line will I?"

"Nah, I put you on the V.I.P list, but…" He grimaces, "I kinda need to stay behind and finish homework at lunch, its due straight after an-." Trailing off he looks guilty.

"Can we meet up after school then? I need someone to show me the nurses office." I say softly, the halls have grown quiet while we've been talking. Ryouta gives me a worried frown.

"Are you okay?" His eyes flicker to my stump. I've noticed he deliberately avoids looking at it very often, its a kindness I wish he would extend to my chest. But no one's perfect.

"Just an appointment," I smile, happy to see his relief. "So back here at last bell?"

"Yep!" he replies happlily, digging in his pocket. "And Miki?" I look up as he hands me his room keys, attached to them is one of those on-ride photos you get at amusement parks. _I do not believe it._ The picture shows a very amused looking Ryouta holding up one and a half arms, and beside him a girl looking completely horrified.

"Told you!" He laughs loudly. Snatching back his keys he starts walking down the corridor, waving his stump behind him. _I do not believe it._

— — —

"God dammit," I announce to the empty corridor, standing outside the door that I just tried to knock on with my left hand. I don't want to be here, it feels like I'm back in the hospital. I've already had the pleasure of meeting the head nurse. He wasn't to bad, cheerful and helpful he directed me down to this office.

"Come in," a deep voice announces from inside the room before I can knock again. Looking around quickly I can't see a security camera, he must just have good hearing.

Opening the door slowly reveals a modern looking office, though it could just as well be a sitting room. The furniture looks sleek and stylish, but also comfortable. Everything in this room blends together, nothing is eye catching or alarming. The occupant sitting in a comfortable looking cream recliner surveys me over a delicate pair of wire glasses.

"Do come in Miss Miura, shut the door behind you please," his voice is even, it never dips or raises, its like the room, trying very hard not to startle. I close the door, my phantom left hand prickles uncomfortably under his gaze, though his eyes do not leave mine.

"Im Dr Ueda, I'm here to help you with some of the problems you've been having remembering the accident," he nods at a collection of chairs opposite him. A straight backed wooden affair, a bean bag and a wide sofa. "Please sit wherever you feel most comfortable." _Is this a test?_

I take a seat on the lefthand side of the sofa, pushing my stump between the cushion and my leg. Dr Ueda smiles at me. I notice the only sound in the room is the gentle ticking of a clock. Now that I'm eye level I can get a good look at the man across from me, he's old in his sixty's at least. Bold, the only hair on his face is a wispy white beard, he wears a neatly pressed green suit.

"Miss Miura I want to start by telling you this is a safe place, nothing you say here will leave this room," he takes a deep breathe, like the calm before a storm. "However. You are involved in an active police investigation, and if called on I may be asked to testify against you." He lets that statement hang in the air.

"Do you understand?" He says.

"How can you testify against me and not let anything I say leave the room?" I ask, more defiantly than I intended. Not answering at once the doctor touches his fingertips together.

"I cannot reveal anything you tell me in confidence, I can however submit my findings on my assessment of your mental state." Picking up a jug of water from a tray on his desk he looks up at me. "Would you care for a drink?"

"No, thank you." I pause for a moment. "Is testifying against me something that's likely to happen?"

"I hope not, but these are far from normal circumstances."

What on earth have I gotten myself into now? I don't remember, that's the problem. The way this doctor talks it sounds like the police are much more involved than grandfather lead me to believe. Did I do something? Something bad? _Did I hurt someone?_

"Tell me Miss Miura, what do you remember about the accident?"

"Nothing" I reply simply; honestly.

"Well then we have much work to do."

The next hour is spent talking, strangely not about the accident or what I can remember but about unrelated matters. How I was getting on in school, how I was interacting with my peers and even touching on my home life. I thought this would be a sword fight, an interview where I would have to rebuke his clever accusations. In reality I realise I'm more like a fish caught on a hook. He tests every question, if it appears I'm in danger of braking the line he lets out slack with an easier less intrusive line of questioning.

As time goes on we become more comfortable talking, he switches seamlessly to using my first name. I can't quite seem to relax though, I'm constantly on guard unless I should accidentally reveal too much. He says very little about himself, but seems, at least on the surface, to be honestly interested in me. As the session starts to unwind he pulls a blue file from his bag sat beside his chair.

"Before you go Miki I would like to know if you could try and identify somebody for me?"

I nod meekly as I'm passed the open folder, on the front page is a photograph of a young man. Older than me for sure, his silver hair is buzz cut close to his skull. His eyes are bright in contrast to his hard face. He seems familiar, but I can't place him.

"I'm sorry, he looks familiar but I can't remember where I would have met him, why?" I ask, handing pack the file. I notice a concerned frown dent the doctors otherwise unflappable outward appearance.

"Not to worry too much about that for now Miki, we have made good progress today," putting away the file he withdraws a small white card. "Will you contact me if you remember anything or have any concerns at all?"

I agree to do so and he gets up to open the door for me.

"I would like to meet with you this time next week, is that acceptable to you?" I nod my assent, then step out into the corridor, I look back to Dr Ueda who nods at me before retreating to his office. Fatigue hits me as I make it to the end of the corridor and out into the evening sunset. I feel like I've been in a mental boxing match, all I want is to sleep and try and get the image of a silver buzz-cut out of my head.

— — —

_I step off the bus onto a hot dry sidewalk, the bustle of the city fills my ears. I head down a familiar street, passing bars and clubs, closed this early in the afternoon. Rounding a corner I come across a group of people gathered around a huge black pickup truck. The english letters "F.O.R.D" are written across the front bumper but I don't really know what they mean._

_"'Sup Miki?" A girl asks me, I can't recall her name._

_The crowd parts before me as I approach. One person is left leaning lazily against the front of the truck, his short silver hair catches in the sunlight. He's gorgeous. I feel the heat rise in my cheeks, with a small smile he reaches out a beautiful hand to me._

_Everyones looking at me now; waiting. I know if I take his hand everything will be better. I will be a better person. I won't be alone. I place my left palm in his.  
_  
Pain. Pain like I have never felt before forces me awake. My hand is on fire, it feels as if each finger is being stretched then shrunk before being bent back and crushed between two irons. I scream in pain, the yell unnaturally loud in the quiet room before I force my face into the pillow.

Curled in a ball my stump pressed hard to my stomach I look over at a familiar illuminated clock face telling me its past three AM. I hope I didn't wake anybody up, all I need is for my neighbours to start thinking I'm some kind of screaming banshee. Three light taps in quick succession are followed by an even lighter voice.

"H… Hello? Do you need me to get the nurse?" Oh good, day three and I'm a banshee.

I scramble out of bed, nearly tripping over my bedclothes in my haste. I open the door just as my missing hand gives another stab of pain, annoyed at being ignored. Before me stands a short brown haired girl with perhaps the biggest blue eyes I have even seen. Her petite frame is covered in a pink and white night dress, a blur of lace and frills in the feeble lighting from the hallway.

"I'm sorry I woke you," I apologise, my little finger picks this moment to stretch itself to twice its normal size before bending backwards. I feel sick, dizzy, I need to sit down. I land on my bed In a heap, groaning into my pillow. Quite forgetting my guest.

"Whats wrong?" The girl asks, she looks terrified. _Screaming? Check. Locals afraid? Check, I have this banshee thing down._

"My hand forgets that its not a hand anymore, it hurts." I gasp as my phantom hand makes a fist so tight it could crush steel. I feel wetness on my cheeks, this is pathetic Miki. "It really hurts."

"What can I do?" She edges closer.

"Something, anything. Distract me?" I plead, the pain has never lasted this long. What if it's stuck like this? Okay deep breaths, deep breaths.

"My Sister lives in Paris, she says it's lovely this time of year." Well that was distracting.

"You don't look French," I groan, even my hand lets up a fraction to see where this is going.

"I'm not, she attends university there," she edges a little closer to the bed, I sit up cradling my burning hand in my lap. "Heard of the Ecole Normale Superieure?" she asks hopefully.

"Its too late for made up words, who are you?" I ask, more sharply than I intended.

"Oh I'm sorry, I'm Komaki Ikuno," She pauses slightly, "I sit next to you in class."

I blink a few times, trying to make her out in the darkness, she's about a head shorter than me and now that I think about it she does seem familiar.

"I'm sorry, I've not really gotten to know my classmates yet," I apologise, I'm doing that a lot tonight. "I'm Miki, sorry again that I woke you."

"It's okay," Ikuno smiles, bouncing a little on the balls of her feet. "I'm kinda a night owl anyway."

Well lucky for me I guess, at last the pain in my hand has started to slip away. Only biting in sharp stabs every now and again, like a monster clinging desperately to an icy cliff face as it slips to its doom. I look up at my visitor who for all the world looks like she's having the time of her life.

"Would you like to sit down?" I ask, pulling the blankets back to reveal a clear bit of mattress. She nods earnestly and taking great care climbs into bed next to me, her back to the wall.

"Are you new here as well?" She asks, straightning her nightdress. I nod, nice to know I'm not the only person trying to fit in.

As it turns out we have a lot in common. She attended a boarding, I assume private, girls school before being transferred to Yamaku for reasons she doesn't reveal. I guess it's like in prison, when the inmates don't ask each other what they did to wind up behind bars. We talk at length about school, she's modest about it but I get the feeling she is way ahead of me in class. She talks about how she misses her friends at her old school, how she does not know how to act around people here. If I had to make a guess I would say she's not spoken much to anyone since term begun.

"Would you like to come to breakfast with us tomorrow Ikuno?," I ask.

"Us?"

"Well me and a friend, he's kinda nice," I have to think for a moment. "Nice smart arse, lets go with that."

"I would like that," she yawns into her hand. "I should get back to bed." I nod in agreement, though I don't think I will be getting any more sleep tonight.

"Thanks," I gesture to my stump. "It helped."

She just smiles and nods sliding off my bed and over to the door. We wish each other goodnight then she is gone as fast as she appeared. As I lay down in bed I start to go over the events that lead me to this point. The therapist shows me a picture and the very same night I have a dream about the same person.

My hand prickles as I let my mind wonder back to the dream or was it a memory? I've been to the street before, I know that. The people seem familiar, I even vaguely remember the truck. English letters on the front sticking out more in my mind than the pickup itself.

I thought I would remember everything all at once. A lightbulb would come on inside my mind and I would know. I am not sure I can do this on my own, its a scary thought. I've been alone as long as I can remember, surrounded by people, but alone.

I try and find a comfortable spot in bed, but its useless. My body has given up on sleep, I feel restless like an overcharged battery. I spring out of bed heading to my suitcase. Perhaps I don't have to do things alone anymore. Ryouta has become a better friend in three days than I've had in three years. I pull on my well used tracksuit bottoms.

It's too much to think about, friends, memories, crashes, pain. Far too much. I need to let go, I need to run. I head out of my door with a grin, striding out into the rebellious night. _Now, where did Ryouta say that track was?_


	5. Racing at Sunrise

I can't sleep. I'm not sure if I even want to, every time I close my eyes I see a silver buzz-cut and a black truck. Then pain, the phantom, ghost or demon that has replaced my hand has been restless for the last few nights. Ikuno answers every one of my screams with stories of trips her family have been on, to exotic lands and cruising over endless oceans. I'm not sure how much of what she tells me is true, but it helps none the less.

I trudge out into the cold morning air, the sun isn't up yet but I know my way. My nights have started to have a set routine. I stay up as late as my shattered mind will let me, hoping that I can beat dreams with pure exhaustion. When this Inevitably fails I wake up with a yell, open the door to my blue eyed storyteller and listen until the pain subsides. Then Ikuno goes back to bed and I pretend I will do the same.

Ryouta doesn't know about any of this. I walk past the boys dormitories with a sack of guilt resting on my stomach. He would listen, hell he might even understand the phantom pain. I don't know how he lost his arm, he would tell me if I asked, I'm sure he would. But then I would have to tell him about my hand. He would insist I didn't need to, but I would, or else it wouldn't be fair.

On the upside Ikuno has now become a member of our little circle, I don't think she and Ryouta would get along with out me being there to mediate, but thats okay. No one's perfect. I reach the track just as the sun peeks over the horizon, as I have every day this week. Unlike every other day though I'm not alone.

A small figure is running laps and setting a good pace. _Dammit I need this._ I stop on the sidelines trying to decide what to do. Should I just run and pretend the other track user does not exist? I could go back to my room, but I don't want to. I could just run somewhere else. Or else I coul-

"Hi," a high girlish voice makes me jump interrupting my chain of thought. I look down at the girl standing in front of me. _Oh wow._ Both her legs are gone below the knee, replaced with springy blades. Didn't someone compete in the Olympics with something like that?

"Errm, Hi," I hide my stump behind my back as my eyes trail up her body. My goodness those shorts are small, and those eyes are green. A pair of pigtails bob up and down as this strange girl looks me over.

"Are you here to run?" she asks, bouncing a little. _Is she completely incapable of being still?_

"I wanted to, but if you're using the track…" I trail off, looking at my feet. The girl giggles.

"Its okay, track's kinda big ya' know," her enthusiasm is disconcerting, especially given the bags under her eyes.

"Okay then," I let a smile slip onto my face as I jog onto the track. _Right, finish line one hundred yards ahead, thats my goal I will not stop until I reac-_

"Whats your name?" the girl interrupts my ritual, running up beside me.

"Sorry, its Miki," together we set off at a gentle jog. Well this is new.

"I'm Emi, I've not seen you around before." She states, the sound her legs make is a little distracting.

"Just started here," I answer simply, putting on a little burst of speed. I don't really want to talk.

"You should join the track and field club if you like running," she grins, easily catching up to me.

"I don't really like company when I run."

"You don't?" How the hell do you pout and jog at the same time.

"I didn't mean you, I just…" I don't know what to say.

"Need to clear your head?" Emi asks, a little too knowingly. I don't answer, just nod. "Well then you will need to go much faster, wanna see if you can keep up?" The pout is gone now, there is only focus.

As if set off by some invisible starter pistol we both burst into a dash. She's lighting fast, but so am I. I have a goal now, nothing else matters but catching this girl. We complete the first bend and Emi is ahead, not by much yet. If I push just a little more I can get in front.

We are almost neck and neck as we reach the next bend, I have the inside lane. This is mine. Exiting the bend I'm just ahead, fixing my eyes on the finish line I throw everything I have into crossing it first. Yes, this is it, Emi made a good nemesis. But I suppose its not really a fair race given her disadvantage.

Out of nowhere Emi roars ahead of me, her springs pumping in perfect synchronised power. She crosses the line far enough ahead of me to disperse any views I might have had about a disadvantage. Playing it smart she matched my race pace like it was a relaxing stroll then unleashed a killer sprint for the last hundred meters. I collapse to my knees breathing hard. Emi meanwhile bounces up and down looking thrilled.

"You're really good!" she exclaims, a little out of breathe.

"I… am?" I gasp. Okay Miki, do not throw up. Just stay on the ground.

"You are!" She grins, biting her bottom lip, "You almost beat me."

I don't think I ever stood a chance, but Emi seems the kind of person who would rather share her victory than gloat about it. I close my eyes, breathing hard with a smile planted on my lips. When I open my eyes again the sky is obscured by a pouting face.

"Your not going to die on me are you?"

"I hope not,' I laugh. "Just out of practice."

"Then you have to join the track and field club!"

"I dunno," I groan.

"Pleeeeaaasssse?" Emi whines, its adorable.

"Fine, fine!" I sit down, stretching my legs out in front of me. "One meeting and I make no promises."

"Perfect!" She turns and starts to jog away. "Later Miki!"

"Wait,' I try and call after her. "I don't even know when this club meets…"

She's already out of ear shot, heading in the direction of the medical centre. Well that was a strange meeting. I start to walk slowly back to the girls dorms, in desperate need of a shower. I feel bad for having underestimated Emi, even if it was only in my head. I wonder if I will ever truly get used to his place, the people here are full of constant surprises.


	6. Pride Only Hurts, It Never Helps

"I do not want to be here," I announce, crossing my arms stubbornly over my chest.

"But you are." Dr Ueda says passively. _Just look smug damn you._ I purposely missed my appointment last night. I didn't want to see him anymore after my week of pain and haunting dreams.

"My Grandad phoned and said I had to see you, happy?" I snap.

"I am happy you have come to see me Miki, less pleased that it's under duress." He looks a little disappointed. Damn him, this would be a lot easier if he acted more like my enemy.

"Could I ask why you didn't want to see me?" He inquires, using his normal trick of testing the water.

"You're not a teacher are you?" I ask, looking up at him. "You can't give me a detention?"

"I cannot, bu-"

I don't give him a chance to finish, instead I explode with a verbal out pouring that can only come from lack of sleep, a ghost hand and a mother who does not stop you watching late night television. I tell him about my dreams and my hand, making it clear beyond any doubt that these problems are entirely his fault.

Throughout my verbal assault he keeps up his calm and measured demeanour, nodding every now and then and even adding a few notes to a pad laying on his lap. At last I'm finished, laying back in the sofa I watch him intently.

"I can only apologise Miki," he looks truly apologetic as well. _Damm him._ "Your grandfather made clear to me your wish to remember the details of the accident yourself".

"What you spoke with him?" A hand is held up, silencing me.

"Please listen for the moment Miki, then you may ask me anything you like," He takes a long steady breathe. "I showed you a picture last week in the hope it may have rekindled some of your memories, which as you mention has happened. However, I fear that giving you such limited information has had a detrimental effect."

I nod slowly. For the last week I have been under the impression he showed me the picture as a kinda torture, to punish me for something I don't know i've done. Now it turns out my repeated dreams are a product of my own stubbiness.

"I would like to share with you the details the police managed to gather for themselves, my hope is that a clearer understanding of what has happened will help you more than vague reminders." I don't know how to react. He's right these hazy and painful dreams can't continue, I will go mad with lack of sleep.

"Okay," I say simply, bracing myself.

"If at any point it gets to much you are free to stop me and we will end this appointment immediately, Okay?" He gives me a sympathetic look. I nod once, my eyes flicker to the door.

"You were involved in a car crash, a black pickup truck hit a row of parked cars causing the truck to roll several times," He stops for a moment, waiting for any kind of response. I feel the bile rise to the back of my throat but say nothing.

"When the police arrived they found you unresponsive with your hand pinned under the vehicle," He lets this sink in. "They also found the young man whose photo I showed you, his name was Tatsuo Takahashi and I'm afraid he was declared dead at the scene."

I know that name, at least I think I do. It sounds very familiar. I rack my brain for any detail I might have overlooked. It's almost as if the harder I try and remember the further away the memories become. _I have a name and a face, but nothing in-between._

"Anything… else?" I say, trying to keep my voice steady. _Am I the reason this boy is dead?  
_  
"Yes, unfortunately neither of you were wearing seat belts, as a result you were found in such a position that either of you could have been driving," He takes a long steadying breath. "Normal practice in this situation is to test the steering wheel for fingerprints, unfortunately they found both yours and Mr Takahashi's prints."

What does that mean? It can't have been me. Can it? Why would this Tatsuo let me drive his truck? _I don't even know how to drive._ Perhaps I distracted him, but I don't even know why I would have gotten into his car in the first place.

"I… I'm sorry, I need some air." I get up walking unsteadily to the door, the doctor seems to expect this and makes no effort to stop me. Bursting out into the warm afternoon sun I struggle to take deep enough breathes. Too many thoughts are flying around in my mind, I feel dizzy.

I collapse onto the grass outside the medical centre, my left hand itching madly. I grind my teeth, forcing my stump into my lap. My bag buzzes, retrieving my phone discover a text message from Ryouta.

[Smart-arse]: "Come to my room 134 you don't want to miss this! =D"

It's stupid, I have more important things to be thinking about than whatever surprise Ryouta has in store. But I don't want to think about anything that has just happened. If that makes me a coward then so be it. _I need a distraction._

Still wobbly on my feet I walk into the boys dormitories. I've never been inside before, the whole building has the faint smell of a locker room. I count the room numbers as I pass 132, 133 and aha 134. I knock on the door, thankfully remembering to use my right hand today.

"Its open!" Ryouta yells from inside.

I compose my face before I open the door, there is no reason for him to be worried. To my surprise my plump friend is not alone, sitting on his bed is Ikuno, looking quite out of place in her immaculate school uniform.

"Did a bomb go off in here?" I ask looking around with raised eyebrows. The floor is covered in clothes, books, DVD cases and is that a pizza box? _Ewwwww._ The walls are decorated in English movie posters and his desk is completely overtaken by a large television set. _This would explain the constantly late homework.  
_  
"How rude! This is just what a well loved and lived in room looks like." Ryouta grins at me, behind him Ikuno rolls her eyes.

"You should clear up if you expect guests," Ikuro states matter of factly, she rummages in her bag and pulls out a small black case. I have seen her do this a few times, but it's always fascinating to watch. She deftly unpacks her supplies and with practiced motions sterilises then pricks her finger. Squeezing a drop of blood onto a digital tester she waits for the results.

"All good?" Ryouta asks. Ikuno nods, blushing slightly as she realises we were watching. Diabetes looks like a pain to manage, but my blue eyed friend takes it all in her stride.

"So dare I ask why you wanted to see me?" I ask Ryouta, who smiles delightedly, handing me a DVD case.

"What's a 'Pump futon'?" I ask, both of them burst into laughter.

"It's Pulp Fiction, your English is terrible," Ryouta sniggers. I cross my arms over my chest.

"It's an American movie Miki," Ikuno points out quickly, thankfully not laughing at me. "It's really good."

"See I had to wait for one with Japanese subtitles for the slower children in the class," Ryouta nods at me, opening the case one handed and striding over to me, I sit down on the bed beside Ikuno, rolling my eyes.

"You like all this English stuff too?" I ask her, she shrugs.

"I spent quite a bit of time with my cousins from New york," she pauses for a moment, her nose scrunched up in a disgruntled frown. "They were never really interested in learning Japanese, so everything we did together was in English."

"Shhh you two, it's starting," Ryouta settles himself beside me.

— — —

The movie is a little boring if I'm honest, I don't really get what's going on. My two companions seem to be really into it though, perhaps something gets lost in translation. I watch absent mindedly, letting my thoughts wander. _Perhaps he just let me sit behind the wheel? That would explain the fingerprints._ All of a sudden there's the screech of tyres as two onscreen cars smash into each other.

"I have to go," I stand up, not looking at the others. "Homework." I say simply, its a bad excuse. I leave before they have a chance to offer much protest, Ignoring whatever they try and say to me. I practically run back to my room. So this is life now? A movie will be enough to make me feel sick to my stomach and drive me away from my friends.

Fumbling with my key I burst into my room, slamming the door behind me. Throwing myself on top of the bedclothes I hug my stump to my chest, Face pressed into a pillow I sob, The first stab of pain racks through my non existent hand and into my chest. I stay whimpering into my pillow until the room grows dark.

"Miki, can I come in?" Ikuno asks from the door, I say nothing. She's known me less than a week and now look at me. I'm a mess. The door creaks open and I feel the bed sink beside me, her hand rests gently on my shoulder. My instinct is to shrug her off, but I don't.

"Is the reason you're here, something… Something to do with a car crash?" I roll over quickly, looking up at her.

"How did you know?" I ask, voice croaky.

"You left at that part of the movie."

We sit in silence for what feels like a long time. Ikuno gently strokes my arm, she's still here. I'm confused. I can't understand why she's still here, why she still cares. But it feels nice. I realise I've told her hardly anything about myself, her or Ryouta. That has to change. What did grandfather tell me? _Friendship is a two way street. _

Slowly, very slowly I tell her about what I learned today. I tell her someone died in the car crash that took my hand. I tell her I can't remember all of the details and how I'm in an uphill struggle with my own mind. She just nods. I half expect her to get up and leave.

"I'm sorry…" she trails off, this is the part where she leaves._I know it._ "I've not been a very good friend, I stayed watching the movie, I should have been with you." She looks away from me, her cheeks red.

"Hey, hey this isn't on you," I try and smile, but fail. "Just something I need to deal with."

"But you don't want to do it alone, do you?" Ikuno turns those bottomless sapphire eyes on me.

"I never really thought I had a choice." I say.

"I will be here for you, if you want me," she smiles softly. "I think Ryouta will be as well, if you let him." I sit up in bed, hugging my arm to my chest. I can still feel my left hand, but for once it doesn't hurt. Its content.

"So do you really have homework to do?" Ikuno asks, eyes wondering to my desk.

"Maths, but it sucks" I grimace, Ikuno giggles.

"I will go get my textbook, this is something I can definitely help with!" I laugh as she hurries out of the room. So much has happened my first week. I slip out of my uniform, pulling on a comfortable old tshirt and pyjama bottoms. I know remembering what happened is going to be hard, filling in the gaps in my memory feels like a impossible task. _But at least I won't have to do it alone._


	7. Complications

_The inside of the truck is spotless, I think it's cleaner than some operating theatres. Beside me Tatsuo drives lazily, one hand on the wheel he watches me. A little self conscious I lay back in the seat, the leather is soft and plush._

_"Like it?" He asks, a grin on his face._

_"It's amazing, It must have cost a lot of money." I brush my hair away from my face, wishing I had the sense to do something with it before I left the house today. He lets out a chuckle that makes me blush, suddenly he seems a lot older._

_"I've had my eye on you Miki, I think you could go far."_

_"What do you mean?" I interlock my fingers in my lap to stop myself doing anything embarrassing with my hands._

_"Well, cute girl like you is going to have a lot of boys after her tail, you 'gotta make sure you pick the right one." His eyes travel down my body, it makes me feel a little uncomfortable to be honest. But this is what boys like, right?_

_"I'm not tha- Watch out!" Out of nowhere a yellow bus slams into Tatsuo's door. The last thing I see before the world goes black is the illuminated words 'Yamaku Academy' shown as the buses destination._

I wake up feeling like I'm falling, my body jerks in terrified response. The ghost of my left hand is clenched into a fist, nails digging into flesh that no longer exists. I shiver soaked in a cold sweat. _What the hell was that?_ Wrapping my covers around me I wait for Ikuno's knock, it doesn't come. Now that I think about it I can't be sure I screamed this time. _Well that's an improvement_. Still I wonder if I should go and knock on my best friends door. I decide not to, it's early Sunday morning, I'll let her sleep.

— — —

Eventually soft morning light seeps through my window, waking me from my fretful slumber. I pull myself out of bed, head still full of thoughts silver haired boys and buses smashing into trucks. I pull on my Yamaku PE kit, my normal track suit bottoms are in the wash. _Note to self, get more running clothes._ The shorts feel tiny, and the top is defiantly too tight. I silently curse whoever designed this abomination as I walk out the door.

By the time I've ran for a good hour, gone back to my room, washed and dressed my friends have just about managed to crawl their way out of bed. I meet them in what has become our normal haunt, a large oak in the lavish grounds. Ryouta is laying in the grass, looking like he's ready for a nap. Ikuno meanwhile sit's with a text book open in her lap, throwing Ryouta disapproving looks.

"Good morning," I sink down against the trunk of the tree. _Nice of them to save my sport for me._

Ryouta mumbles something that could either be good morning or a hitherto undiscovered tribal language.

"Good Morning Miki," Ikuno says, glaring at Ryouta. Despite my first impressions they have developed a kind of chemistry with each other, it's fascinating to watch. "Did you sleep well?"

"I've slept better," I say, trying to read her upside homework. She gives me a knowing look.

"If you can't sleep you're more than welcome to share my bed, I'll keep the bad dreams away."

"Ryouta!" Ikuno exclaims, blushing madly. _Like I say, strange chemistry._

"That sounds like a nightmare," I aim a kick at his side.

"Ow! that was uncalled for," he sits up, rubbing his eyes.

"Serves you right for not focusing on your homework," Ikuno bites her pen, eyes fixed to the page.

"What? You seem to have it covered," he grins stupidly. "Besides you need to get used to filling out paperwork with no thanks, you're on the student council now," nodding he lays back down. Closing his eyes he wiggles around apparently trying to find a comfortable spot.

"You joined the student council?" I ask, momentarily distracted from the retribution I will deliver upon Ryouta for making someone else do his homework.

"It was an accident!" Ikuno groans.

"How the hell do you accidentally join a council?" I ask exasperated.

"Well you remember when I stayed behind on Saturday because I thought I might have misread one of my homework questions?" I nod. "Well I got talking to Shizune and Misha, they said I was just the kind of person they were looking for." She smiles proudly.

"Yeah, gullible!" Ryouta starts to laugh, wiping the smile of Ikuno's face. With a sigh I take the heavy textbook out of Ikuno's lap, close it neatly. Then drop it onto Ryouta's unsuspected stomach. "Ow, Miki how come whenever we spend time with each other you end up hurting me?"

"Because you inset on being a total and complete pain in the arse, now be quiet and let Ikuno finish." I gesture for Ikuno to continue, she looks at Ryouta a little worried before she does.

"Well I've always liked that kinda thing, I used to be on the council at my old school and well we went back to this spare classroom they use," She takes a deep breath. "We played a board game, then they asked me to join and well everything seemed so good I said yes."

"Well it doesn't sound so bad," I smile at her. "I'm happy for you."

"That student council is cursed," Ryouta says, apparently he's a slow learner. "I hear most of the members left after a year of Shizune, I hear she made a blind girl cry."

"Is that true?" Ikuno looks worried.

"You're not blind," I point out. "And if the president gives you trouble tell me and I will punch her." Ikuno looks at me, trying to work out if I'm serious. My face brakes first, cracking into a grin. Soon the three of us are in fit's of laughter.

— — —

Despite my first positive impressions of the student council, I'm quickly starting to side with Ryouta's view. It's like a top secret best friend stealing research facility. All I ever get from Ikuno when I invite her out is that she's busy with council stuff. Ryouta is a good friend, but it's just not the same. She's even stopped coming to my room when I have bad dreams. It's not like I expected her to do it when I first got here, but she did, and it was nice. _Now she's stopped I'm stuck with both pain and loneliness.  
_  
I arrive at my appointment with Dr Ueda for once quite glad I have someone to talk to about my dreams. I knock on the door, remembering to use my right hand this time. _I think my body has finally caught on that my hand is gone. _

"Come in Miki," We nod at each other as I take a seat on the bean bag. I've taken to switching chairs every time I enter this room, just in case a repeated choice of seat might reveal some dark family secret. _He's a mind reader sometimes_.

We follow our normal routine of greeting, politely refusing drinks and light chatter about the weather and plans for the upcoming festival, which I have exactly zero.

"Well Miki, is there anything in particular you would like to discuss today?"

"I had a new dream," I say simply. I had considered not telling him, but with Ikuno lost to the council I need to get things off my chest.

"Oh?" The doctor takes the lid off his pen, inviting me to continue.

I hesitantly explain my dream. I try to describe in detail how uncomfortable the look made me feel, how I wake up feeling like something is watching me. My left hand starts to prickle as the memories of the dream resurface. I push the stump into the beanbag. Dr Ueda knows enough not ask about the hand, instead focussing on the dream.

"There is no mention of a bus being involved in the accident Miki." He tells me calmly.

"Then what I see in my dreams is all bullshit anyway?" My left hand curls into a fist, an action I for once don't mind. I feel like punching something, I thought I was making progress. _Damn it!_

"Miki, your partial amnesia is an incredibly rare condition, as is recovering your memories through dreams." He pauses. "Dreams are the minds way of working out problems. I think the bus may perhaps represent your anxiety with starting at a new school."

"How can I tell what really happened then?"

"I believe we can determine what is real by using the information we have available to us and by discussing the details during our appointments. Don't feel disheartened Miki, you are making real progress."

"So the bus is nothing to worry about then?" I ask, calming a little.

"I would not worry about it, no." He looks from his notes and back to me, before speaking slowly. "Miki, is it possible Tatsuo attacked you while you were in his company?"

"No," I say softly.

"Are you certain?"

"No," I look at my feet.

The rest of the appointment is subdued, my mind is full of horrible thoughts. _Damn it!_ Because what I needed was something else to think about. We say our goodbyes and I promise to phone him if I have any problems. _I think we both know I'm lying._ I am on edge as I leave his office. On the way back to my room I stop at Ikuno's door. She can forgot the council for one night. _I need her._ knocking softly on her door, I get no answer. That's odd, I try knocking again with the same result. In desperation I try the handle and find the door unlocked.

Walking tentatively into the room i'm met with an onslaught of colour and lights. Everything from the curtains to her bedspread are a violent shade of pink. Strings of fairy lights are hung along every available ledge, providing warm but dim light. Ikuno wearing her frilly nightdress, sits bent at her desk, a mountain of paperwork in front of her.

One hand on her chin she looks like she's about to fall asleep, she's wearing headphones with the music so loud I can hear the beats from the door. I walk closer, wondering how best to announce myself. The point is made rather mute when I cast a shadow across her desk and she jumps nearly falling off the chair.

"Miki! What are you doing?" She rips the headphones off. I notice she looks paler than normal.

"I just wondered if you wanted to spend the night, or something I dunno." I rub the back of my neck, I'm not really sure what I had planned.

"I can't I'm really busy, student council stuff?" She shrugs, as if it's something outside of her control.

"You can take one night off can't you?" I ask, "Come on you could do with a break, you don't look well."

"I'm fine, just busy."

"When was the last time you ate something? Have you been remembering to check your blood sugar?" I look around for the small black case.

"I don't need you telling me how to look after myself," She glares at me, her cheeks starting to redden.

"Doesn't look like that to me!" I snap back angrily. Her body trembles as she jumps to her feet.

"Get out of my room, I don't know why I'm even your friend!" She's almost shouting now.

"Me neither," I snarl turning to leave.

"Because you can't get through a night without me holding your hand," her voice drips with venom, I turn back to face her astounded. _Is this what Ikuno's really like?_

"Well don't worry about that, I never want to see you again." I stop at her door, "Oh and Ryouta only likes you because you do his homework, you do know that right?" Her eyes grow wide, I can tell I've hit a sore spot. I stamp down to my room, slamming the door behind me.

I throw myself down angrily on the edge of my bed, breathing hard. Why did she react like that? Why the hell did I have to have the last word? _What the fuck have I done?_


	8. Family Matters

"Did you like that one?" Ryuota asks, switching off his DVD player, a hopeful look on his face. I hate to disappoint him, but I just could not get into a movie about a girl fighting off a killer alien in her undies.

"It was okay," I shrug, sitting on his bed. My aching phantom hand clutched to my stomach. I wince as my non existent little finger shrinks and stretches of its own accord.

Its taken me a little while but I think I've worked out why phantom pain is so horrible. Everything else on my body I can touch, I can rub my sore legs after a run or hold a cut finger until it stops bleeding. When my hand starts to hurt all I can do is feel it be torn, burned, stretched and shrunk. _Unfortunately this epiphany offers little comfort. _

"You have no appreciation for art," he looks at me shaking his head. "Ikuno still not talking to you?"

"Clearly," I grunt with pain. "Else I wouldn't be here watching stupid movies," I snap.

"Hey don't take this out on me," Ryouta says rolling his eyes.

"I'm sorry," I mumble, tucking my legs up to my chest. Ikuno has not said a word to me since our argument, in fact she's trying very hard to pretend I don't exist. My hand gives another involuntary stab of pain, I swear under my breath.

"Anything I can do?" he gestures vaguely to my stump.

"No," I sigh, "Don't you get this?" I hold up my arm.

"Nah," he looks at his arm appraisingly. "I was born like this, no phantom pains for me."

"Lucky," I mumble, then realise what I said. "I didn't mean- I'm sorry."

He laughs waving me off with his stunted arm.

"Come on," He says, grabbing his jacket from the back of the door.

"Where are we going?" I ask grumpily.

He just grins. Stepping out of his room, he leaves the door wide open. _Dammit Ryouta._ It's almost sundown and he wants to go on some hair brained adventure. I get up with a groan, my hand starting to clench. He's not gotten far down the corridor as I hurry after him. _I don't even have my coat. _

Ryouta leads me out of the seemingly deserted school between the black iron gates and down the hill, heading towards the small town nestled at its base. We walk in relative silence, listening to unseen birds sing; it's peaceful. Okay perhaps this is better than his messy room.

"Are your parents coming to the festival?" He asks casually.

"I doubt it," I look up at a pink and orange sky, a gentle breeze playing with my hair. "My mum does not really get out much and I've not seen my dad since I was like eight?" I shrug.

Ryouta goes to say something but I cut him off.

"I'm okay, It's not a problem." I say quickly, it's important to make him understand that I'm not fishing for sympathy. It's half the reason I don't tell people. I didn't have a bad childhood no matter what people assume.

He looks like he wants to say something, but thinks better of it. I'm grateful people read too much into things. _Thanks for taking me at my word. _

"I'm not sure if mine are coming this year," he says, turning his attention back to the black pavement, "Not sure my little sister is old enough to travel yet, she's only a baby."

"Wait, wait, wait," I say laughing. "What's your little sisters first language going to be? English or Japanese?" He seems to put some considerable thought into the question before answering.

"Depends how good the summer realeases are," he laughs.

"Are you close to your family?" I ask, an aftershock of pain causing me to grimace.

"Yep!" He grins and bursts into a story of a family camping trip. It's a little like Ikuno's stories, only with a lot more chaos and quite a bit more laughter. By the time he's explaining how he had to fish his prosthetic arm out of a lake the phantom pains have all but vanished.

We continue to chat, letting the cobbled lane guide us as we stroll between rows of shops and picturesque houses. Electric lights flicker on around us as night draws in, spilling orange light out onto the street. Around us the town starts to close for the night, shopkeepers throwing us suspicious looks close the wooden shutters of their stores.

Walking through a sleeping neighbourhood brings back memories of my past life, it seems so far away now that I wonder if it even happened. Our feet carry us the to the Aura Mart, still spilling florescent light into the night, forsaking the traditional closing times of the town.

An electronic beep plays as we enter the shop, somewhere inside a radio is playing on low volume. The refrigerators hum as we stride between the aisles, apparently Ryouta had ulterior motives in this trip as he hands me a basket. I don't mind, shopping is easier with two hands, so I do mine at the same time. We leave the store, each of us with a carrier bag in hand. Yamaku lays ahead of us as we start the long walk up the hill.

— — —

We part outside the dormitories, Ryouta seems apprehensive leaving me alone. I assure him I will be alright, after all I've been on my own for a long time. I switch on my desk lamp upon entering my room, changing into my sleep shorts and my oldest most comfortable T-shirt I catch my reflection in the mirror. I look older than I feel, its a strange contradiction. Sighing I resign myself to homework before bed, I'm interrupted when my phone rings. _Did Ryouta forget something? _

When I check the caller ID I nearly drop the phone in surprise.

"H… hello?" I answer the phone shakily. I don't think she has ever phoned me before, I can't even remember the last time she was awake at this time of night.

"Hello… does this thing work? Hello?" My mother's voice shakes a little.

"I'm here Mum," I take a seat on my bed. "Are you okay?" I ask, trying to keep the surprise out of my voice. _Is she on her death bed?_

"Sweetie it's good to hear your voice, I wasn't sure I ha-" her voice is cut off by a fit of coughing. "I wasn't sure I had your number."

"Well looks like you found it," I smile softly, she sounds so fragile but her head seems clear. "You sound good mum."

"I'm calling for a reason," she says, ignoring my last comment.

"And heres me thinking you wanted to see how your only child was coping all by herself in a new school," I say sarcastically, unable to keep the bitterness out of my voice. If she was able to phone all this time, why didn't she?

"I do, I did, I-" she trips over her words spluttering.

"It's fine mum… it's fine" I exhale slowly. "What did you want to talk about?" _I swear if she puts a lodger in my room I'm never going to forgive her.  
_  
"You're fathers been released."

I stay quiet for a long time. So he actually was in prison? That's a surprise. I always thought he left us and in her shame mum lied about it. Still I have no idea why she's telling me this, all my memories of my father are faded with time and bittersweet nostalgia.

"Miki… are you still there? Hello?"

"I'm here mum, I just don't know what you want me to say." My voice feels like it's going to break.

"He wants to meet you."

"I don't know him," I say calmly, regaining some control over my voice. _Why can't I come from a normal family?_

"He's not a bad person," Mum says, her voice upbeat. Clearly she has no ill feelings about his incarceration. _Then again she started drinking after he left and has apparently stopped since he's been released, she might not have noticed the time in-between._

"He left you alone," I say coldly.

"Everyone makes mistakes," She starts to cough again. "Just think about it please sweetie? For me?"

I sigh slowly. _Like I don't have enough to think about._ I agree tentatively. If he's willing to explain I'm willing to try and listen, even if I don't particularly want to. I don't even know what he did to end up behind bars. The conversation moves haltingly to school, friends and my hand. I give vague answers. _Despite living with her all my life, sober my mother feels like a stranger. _

We say our goodbyes. She tells me she loves me, something she's said hundreds of times before in a drunken mumble. Tonight though I believe her when she says it. _I love you too mum._ Hanging up I stare at the phone in my hands, she sounds so different. Is this because my grandfather finally found a housekeeper who could care for her? _Or because I left?_

Sleep is hard to find. I feel like my thoughts are chasing each other around my head, I try and get them in some kind of order. It's useless, head starting to ache, I give up. Burying my head in my pillow and waiting for sleep to claim me or dawn to come.

— —

"_Watch out!" I cry as the bus barrels into us, my whole world flips and turns, spinning. I can't tell what's up and what's down anymore. Everything goes black._

_Waking I can hear the shrill wail of a car horn being held down. Opening my eyes slowly I take in my surroundings, I'm still in the truck. But everything seems wrong, the view out of the cracked windscreen is at ninety degrees. The faint smell of petrol tinges the air._

_I blink a few times. I'm only able to move my head and when I do I can feel something fall from my face with a tinkle. Broken glass? I look up, the passenger side window is broken. Above me I can see clear blue sky. My body is twisted, legs held in the air above me._

_Beside me Tatsuo lays as a crumpled heap, his neck bent at an unnatural angle. Eyes wide and staring, he looks surprised. I turn my face away quickly, allowing my eyes to trace up my arm. It takes me a moment to realise what I'm looking at my dark tanned skin disappears at the wrist under twisted black metal._

I wake up screaming, truly screaming. I knock my clock off the bedside table in my haste to get out of bed. Falling against my closet. Panic stricken it takes me a moment to work out where I am. I still feel like my hand is trapped between twisted metal and road, I force the stump into my stomach. He was dead. I choke back sobs as the image of Tatsuo's staring face flashes across my mind.

My door flies open, Ikuno's mouth drops in shock as she appears in the doorway. Her nightdress softly illuminated by the hall lights, she looks like a ghost. I let the tears flow freely down my cheeks as I look at her, no longer having the strength to hide what I'm feeling.

In three long strides Ikuno crosses the room, sinking down beside me she wraps her arms around me. I lean into her, sobbing softly into her shoulder as my hand burns. We stay cuddled together for what feels like a long time, until my eyes have dried and the pain in my hand has lessoned.

"I'm so sorry," she breaks the silence, her voice barely a whisper. "I'm sorry I said those things."

"Me too," I pull away just a little, resting my head on the closet. "I don't even remember why we got in a fight." I say sniffing, I wipe my cheeks with the back of my hand.

"I forgot to eat, I didn't think," she sighs softly.

"I had a rough appointment," I admit. "It… it was unfair to bring all my problems to you." In the darkness we trade apologies, it's cathartic, if not a little unnecessary. I already forgive her, after all what happened was mostly my fault. This isn't the first time my temper has gotten me into trouble.

"Diabetes can cause mood swings, and I was so tired" She looks at her feet. "I know it's not an excuse."

"Have you forgotten to check yourself before?" I ask, there's so much I don't know about my best friend, I don't even really know whats wrong with her. _Everything is so obvious with Ryouta and me. _

"Yeah, It's kind of a bad habit," she pauses, "It's why I ended up here."

"Oh?" I'm keen to hear why she transferred to Yamaku, but I don't want to push her. Taking a deep breath she starts her story.

"When I was at my old school we went on a field trip to Daisetsuzan, you know the national park?" My mind fills with images of rugged snowy mountain peaks, vast forests and isolated hot spring fed bath houses. I nod slowly. _You get a much higher class of field trip in private education._

"I got caught up in the excitement of the first day hiking, forgot to check my blood sugar and well…" She grimaces at me. "They had to call an ambulance, it was a really big deal because of how far along the trail we were." She closes her eyes leaning back against the closet.

"What happened?" I ask gently.

"I was taken to hospital, my parents came and picked me up and I spent the rest of the trip at home," She says quickly, as if pulling off a plaster. Opening her eyes slowly she continues. "After that the school said it could no longer accommodate my unique needs and I was transferred here."

"I'm sorry," I say. "Were your parents upset?"

"Once they got past the shock they didn't mind really, they had been pushing me to go to a school like Yamaku for years." She stretches out her legs in front of her, leaning back against my closet. "I've always been the baby of the family I guess, I'm the youngest and I think it came as a real shock to them when I was diagnosed."

"Why didn't you transfer before now, if your parents wanted you to?"

"My older brother is head of one of our overseas offices, my sister is studying in France and I'm just poor diabetic little Ikuno." She looks at me, a resolute look on her face, "I just wanted to prove to everybody I can do everything they can."

"So that's why you obsess so much about perfect scores on homework," I giggle.

"I think you could use a little of that obsession yourself missy," She laughs as I concede the point.

"What about your parents, how did they react to?" She gestures to my stump. I think back to her venomous comments in the argument, to how much they hurt. Telling her about my family would give her a lot of dirt to use against me. But I guess that's what trust is, giving someone else the power to hurt you. _And hoping they don't. _

I tell her about mums drinking and my father being in prison. I even tell her about the phone call I received today. I try and make it perfectly clear that I don't want sympathy, that everything is fine and I don't really want to talk about it. By the time I'm done talking she's staring at me open mouthed, I press my finger against the bottom of her chin closing her mouth. She smiles softly at me.

"So think I will be able to steal you back from the council sometimes," I ask tentatively. She nods earnestly, though I notice a disgruntled look on her face. "What?"

"I did all that paperwork for them and didn't get so much as a thank you," she huffs. "In fact all I got was an armful more."

"Ryouta was right," I giggle.

"You won't tell him will you?" She asks a frown creasing her forehead.

"Of course not," I beam. "What are friends for?"


	9. Festival Frolics

"Just ask her to go with you," I exhale exhaustedly. I've been in Ryouta's room since class finished at lunchtime. Its Saturday the day before the festival. All the posters describe it as a way of bringing Yamaku and the local community closer together. To me it sounds more like a cripple kid petting zoo.

"But what if she says no?" Ryouta asks, pacing up and down in his room. I'm surprised he's not cut a groove to the floor below.

"Why would she say no? You just want to go as friends don't you?" I sit on his bed, flicking through one of his comics. It's in English but small words and nice pictures are my friends.

"Well..." His plump cheeks start to turn red.

"You like her!" I exclaim, putting down the comic. _This just got interesting._

"No, no… Yes" He holds up his hands as a grin spreads across my face. "Don't tell her!"

"I think it's cute," I giggle. "So when are you going to ask her out?"

"I don't think she feels the same way," He sits down on his rarely used office chair, looking deflated.

"I think Ikuno likes you just fine," I throw him a sideways grin, "Would you like me to ask her?"

"No!" he gets up quickly, nearly losing his balance.

"Well the festival's tomorrow and Ikuno should be back from council at five,"

"I know, I know, don't remind me." He starts to pace again.

"What hours are you working?" I ask, trying to relax the atmosphere a little.

"Morning, first shift," He answers, rubbing the length of his stunted arm with his good hand.

"That's perfect! Ikuno is working the same shift." I on the other hand have been signed up for two of the busiest sifts back to back, an unfortunate side effect from the brief spat Ikuno and I had.

"Look, just ask if she wants to spend the day with you and see where it goes."

"You think that will work?" He asks.

I nod. To be honest I did wonder about how my two friends felt about each other. I've noticed a shy kind of energy between them. The only problem is getting them on the same page. Still I can't claim to be an expert, look where the last boy I liked ended up. _Don't think about that, don't think about that. _

"Miki, are you listening?" Ryouta snaps me out of my spiral of depressing thoughts.

"Yes, err, what?"

"I asked if you wanted to watch a movie?" He holds up a selection of dramatic looking titles.

"I'll pass if that's okay, I need a run," I sigh grumpily. "Won't get the chance tomorrow."

— — —

Later that night I find myself sitting at my desk, a small lamp illuminating my maths homework. _This is impossible._ My left hand starts to itch, great. Just great. I try and focus on my homework, but it never held my attention to begin with. Luckily three loud bangs on my door distract me.

"Come in," I call. Ikuno bursts into my room, her cheeks bright red. _Did she run here? _

"Well good evening councillor. You're looking flushed," A childish grin spreads over my face. "Have a nice time with Ryouta?" I raise my eyebrow.

"He asked me to the festival!" She drops mellow dramatically onto my bed.

"And you said…?" I start to pack away my pencil case, nothing else is getting done tonight.

"I said I didn't know." Just as she finishes her sentence my phone buzzes with an incoming text.

[Smart-arse]: 'We need to talk ASAP!'

"I thought you said you liked him?" I ask, not sure what to send back to Ryouta.

"I do, he's really fun to be around," she looks out of the window wistfully. "He makes me smile." I roll my eyes at her. They both like each other, so I can't for the life of me understand how they managed to make things so complicated.

"Well why don't you tell him that?" I ask slowly.

"I can't," she moans into the air.

Right, this is ridiculous time to take matters into my own hand. I quickly write back a message to Ryouta, 'She's sorry, she will meet you under the big oak at 11, wear something nice." And send. _Sometimes you have to be cruel to be kind._

"Who are you texting? What are you saying?" Ikuno appears beside me, desperately trying to read my screen.

"Right, sorted," She looks at me wide eyed. "I told Ryouta to meet you in our normal spot at eleven."

"You did what!" She starts to pace up and down my room. _I knew they were made for each other. _

"If it helps I told him to wear something nice?" I say by way of condolence.

"Oh my god Miki, Oh my god, oh my god," She runs her fingers through her hair. "I need to find something to wear, I will never forgive you for this!" She dashes out of my room. I laugh to myself. _I've heard it said that love does mysterious things, apparently it turns Ikuno into a cliché._

My phone starts to buzz on the table, an incoming call now from Ryouta. I sigh, looking at my half completed homework.

"Evening lovebird," I answer the phone, a stupid grin plastered over my face. _The things I do for my friends._

— — —

I'm bored. I am so bored it's not even funny anymore, I've been standing at this stupid stall for close to two hours now, through the hottest part of the afternoon as well. This year class 2:3 decided to contribute a simple ring toss game to the festival. I've spent half the time trying to hide my stump from local onlookers and the other half picking up badly aimed plastic rings.

Ryouta and Ikuno stopped by earlier, looking as happy as I guessed they would be. He even won her a prize. _Assisted slightly by me of course, one ring is the biggest prize right? I suck at math_. It was adorable.

At last I escape. I'm hungry, I'm tired. And I swear if one more non-student looks at my arm I'm going to punch somebody. I find comfort in some fried food prepared by the students of class 3:2. I take my food, watching with some interest how my obviously blind server counts my coins in his palm. _I feel a little sorry for the blind students. They are missing out on a delightful game of guess the disability the rest of today's attendees seem to be playing._

I sit on a wall not far from the stand. All the benches are taken, beside me a boy in Yamaku uniform sits with his eyes closed tightly. His head is turned up to the sky. He's taller than me, with neat black hair framing his gentle face. He seems to notice my arrival, but he does not turn to me or open his eyes.

"Hello, is somebody there?" He speaks softly.

"Afternoon," I splutter with a mouth full of chicken. "You mind if I sit here?" I ask, not sure what I'm supposed to do if he says no. _Eating standing up with one hand is a pain. _

"I don't mind at all, here is a nice place to sit I think." He considers for a moment, his nostrils flaring. "Ah, yakitori a good choice." He can tell what I'm eating by the smell?

"It's not bad," I comment, taking another bite. "Are you in class 3:2?"

"Indeed I am, you are sampling some of my classmates cooking." He smiles a little. "I do hope it's to your satisfaction?"

"It is," I smile, before realising how pointless that is for a blind person. "Have you already had your shift on the stall?"

He nods slowly, I take another bite of the soft speared chicken. _It really isn't all that bad._ I wonder briefly what I should do with the rest of my day, just go to bed early I guess. I don't want to disturb the lovebirds and I have no intention of becoming another exhibit for this human circus.

"I had my turn around an hour ago, alas in the confusion I appear to have mislaid my cane." He considers the sky for another moment; reflective. "Forgive the wordplay but I am blind without it."

"I could try and find it for you?" I offer, stuffing down the last bit of yakitori.

"I believe the problem is that it has been borrowed by another student, an accident I'm sure," he yawns, rubbing his stubbly chin. "Forgive me, I omitted my introduction, my name is Ayumu. I have a surname but it is quite forgettable."

"Miura Miki." I say, still a little unsure of what to make of this boy. _He has a strange way of talking._

"A lovely name, I'm pleased to know it." He turns in my direction again, smiling.

"Do you try this hard with all the girls?" I ask, perhaps this is some strange type of flirting.

"I try this hard with everyone," his smile lights up his face, "But I put in extra effort for girls with beautiful voices." I feel my cheeks warm.

"So Miki, how will you be spending the rest of your evening?" He asks, tucking a strand of hair behind his ear.

"I don't really have any plans," I admit honestly. "Thought I might just go and get an early night."

"A prudent course of action. But allow me to suggest an alternative route." he stops for dramatic effect. "If you would be so kind as to guide me, I would enjoy experiencing the rest of the festival with you."

"You don't even know me," I laugh.

"I would like to, I think." a smirk starts to form in his cheeks.

"Do you always talk like this?" I ask, he speaks with such confidence.

"I enjoy words, I like stringing them together like notes on a piano," he pauses for a moment. "Though I admit that my linguistic symphony is rather improvised a lot of the time, I occasionally hit a bum note."

I think I understood about half of that, but he's good looking and funny. _I can think of worse ways to spend the rest of my day. _

"Okay, what do you need me to do?" I ask, getting to my feet. Ayumu does the same, holding out his hand tentatively.

"I will need to hold onto you if that's acceptable? Your sleeve, elbow or shoulder are the preferred choice."

After some muted and awkward shuffling we arrange ourselves, his right hand gently gripping my bare left elbow. I feel very aware of his hand so close to my bandaged stump. _But I can't do anything if I can't use my remaining hand._ With a small thrill I realise that I'm with one of the very few people who doesn't immediately know what's wrong with me.

"What now?" I ask, a little uncomfortable.

"It might be a little much to ask, but do you think you could possibly describe what is around us?"

_How the hell do I do that?_ I slowly start to describe what I can see, stalls, trees, people, a bird. He nods at my mumblings looking elated. What surprises me is he enquires after certain details. If a stall has lights, if those lights are casting shadows.

We start to move slowly, through the crowds playing this strange game. I grow more confident in my descriptions and his smile grows wider. I notice he moves his head around, trying to catch every sound and smell. We reach a carnival game I've never seen before.

Along the front of the counter a series of wooden boxes sit in a row. Each side of the box is a different colour with an irregular shaped door cut into it, the doors are kept closed but a multitude of locks and catches. Everything from simple shoot bolts to combination locks with apparently blank white cards underneath. I'm perplexed.

"Apparently we have reached a sight that is too beautiful for words," Ayumu grins. I hastily try and explain the stall to him.

"Aha, I believe we have reached class 1:2's contribution to the festival. A carnival game for the visually impaired." He announces.

We head over to the booth, my head still spinning with the weirdness of it all. _Though it makes sense that the blind students would want to participate in today's festivities._ As it turns out the rules are quite simple, a player is given 90 seconds to open three doors, each door's challenges get progressively harder. Prizes are allocated based on the number of doors opened in the allotted time.

I stand back to watch as Ayumu cracks his fingers in preparation. He tentatively reaches out a hand and brushes the front of the box with his fingers, deftly he moves his hand to the edge of the box, poised for action.

"Ready," He says confidently.

"Go!" Squeals the first year girl behind the counter, pressing down on an digital egg timer.

Ayumu fingers quickly trace the outline of the box before moving inwards. With well practiced motions he undoes two slide bolts, a safety chain and pushes a key hanging from a chain into another lock. Yanking the door open he spins the box around. I wish I could see the timer, that seemed fast but I have no idea.

The next side offers a bit more challenge, the door has a wavy edge making it harder to locate the locks. I finally get what the blank cards are for, they are written brail showing the code needed for the combination lock. With the last chain catch released the second door is open. _Oh wow this is going to be close._

The last side holds yet more challenges. This time there are locks in deceptive places intended to trick players into undoing locks that do nothing. Ayumu fingers seem to blur as my heart rate increases. _Come on!_ He has just one lock left now, a combination lock with a larger than normal white card underneath. His finger flows over the card, his face scrunched up in concentration.

_He's not going to make it, there's no way! _

An answer seems to hit him, and with three quick movements the lock is undone just as the timer buzzes. He looks ecstatic, tuning in my direction with a grin.

"Yes! That was awesome!" I say gleefully, raising my hand for a high five. He does nothing, I hear a burst of laughter behind me. _Fuck!_ I bite my knuckle my cheeks going red. _Stupid, stupid, stupid, I can't believe I just did that. _

"Miki?" Ayumu asks, looking up I can see a smile on his face, he holds his prize a large plush elephant. Instead of being a uniform colour or material the stuffed animal is made up of panels of varying size and textures.

"Sorry," I can still feel my cheeks burn. "What are you going to name him?" I try and reclaim some of the excitement I had before my embarrassment.

"I was wondering if you would like it?" I notice for the first time his cheeks slightly redden.

"Really?" As way of answer he pushes the toy towards me.

"Thank you Ayumu," I give the elephant a hug. _Isn't this what people on a date do? _

I allow this strange well spoken boy to softly hold my elbow once again. We leave the busy stalls and wonder into the peaceful grounds, with the sun set the stars fill the night sky. I try and describe them as well as I can, but I don't think I have the words.

"Would you like to sit for awhile? I think the fireworks will be lit soon,"

"There are fireworks?" I ask, gently leading him onto the soft well manicured grass.

"Indeed, this is your first festival?" He says as we sink down next to each other.

"Yeah," I pause as my left hand starts to prickle. "Do you mind? the fireworks I mean."

"What do you mean?" He asks, his face turned into the soft night breeze.

"Well I mean, you can't see them." I blush. _Why do I always have to speak my mind, it can't be trusted. _

"Hmmmm," he considers for a moment. "That's true, but that does not mean I can't experience them. We just see things in different ways. I notice the tiny moment of build up before the burst, the subtle vibration in the air and the smell of smoke on the breeze."

I stare at him open mouthed.

"We are nothing but our senses and a choice. A choice of how to perceive the world around us, I think my world is as beautiful as yours, just different."

"Oh," What the hell do you say to that?

"Forgive me, I'm a hopeless romantic. What I meant is no, I don't mind the fireworks." A brilliant smile transforms his face. The back of his fingertips gently stroke the hairs on my arm. I twitch a little. _Well that's an interesting feeling._

"I'm sorry," He says, cheeks reddening.

"Hang on," I get up and turn around, sitting beside him but orientated so that we are hip to hip facing each other, with my stump safely out of reach. "Are you always this forward?" I ask a little breathless.

"You seem to bring it out in me" he says, his mouth flickering with a smile. Slowly I brush my forearm under his fingertips. He jumps a little, before his fingers start to work their way down my arm to my hand, tickling softly as they go.

"I've heard it said that girls can feel a man's eyes on her skin, with me that's literal," he says, trying to break an awkward silence that I'm not sure exists.

I don't say anything. I don't know what I should be feeling, I don't even know what I am feeling. All I know is that I like it. His fingertips are soft and warm, surveying me as if I were made of bone china.

"Miki? Are you okay?" His voice is edged with worry. In answer I take his hand and gently guide him to my cheek, his eyebrows raise in surprise. Carefully he moves his other hand to my face and gently starts to trace my features. I close my eyes letting out a deep breath.

"Now who's being forward," he asks, his voice quiet.

"Shhh," I whisper, "Don't spoil whatever the hell this is…"

In silence his fingertips trace the bags under my eyes, I frown. _My face tells a story I'm not ready to tell him._ His thumb starts to trace the shape of my mouth, gently pulling down on my bottom lip. _Oh wo- BANG!_

We both jump apart as if we'd hit a live wire. My eyes fly open. I start to laugh as I look up to see the next volley of fireworks light up the night sky. A few confused seconds later and Ayumu joins me, laughing happily. The moment has gone as fast as it came.

I reach out and take his hand in mine. I don't know anything about him, not even his last name. I just know I like him. That's enough for now, He told me it's how you choose to look at the world that matters and right here, right now. The world is good. Silently in our own ways we watch the fireworks.


	10. Victories

"Time is not separate to space but in fact part of it, we call this space-time and like everything around us it is relative," Mutou drones, he has one thing right. In this classroom, in the blistering stuffy heat of summer time is moving relatively slowly. Even Ikuno looks bored by this latest bit of useless information.

The bell rings at last, freeing us to enjoy our Saturday. Chairs scrap back against the polished wooden floor, even the ever sleepy blue haired girl to my left looks ready to sprint from this sauna of a classroom. Mutou stands with a sigh. _Did he expect us to boil so we could hear the last of his space ramblings?_

"I hope everyone has a safe and productive weekend. Oh and…" He looks down at something on his desk. "Wish Miura good luck at the track meet, she might be the only hope we have against that speed machine from 2:4" He looks dreamily out of the window as fifteen eyes turn on me.

"Oh," he seems to come back to reailty. "You are dismissed."

People nod at me as they file passed, my cheeks burn with all the attention. At last me and Ikuno leave the room, heading for the large oak in the grounds. The past few weeks since the festival have flown by. Ikuno and Ryouta have developed in to an appalling soppy couple, spending much of our movie nights with their tongues down each others throats. _It's cute and sickening at the same time, like watching a baby lion eat a gazelle._

Ayumu and I on the other hand have been taking things much slower, gentle touches stolen when we can find the time to be alone. Everything about us seems so deeply private I've not even introduced him to my friends.

I know it's just a boy touching my face. It's nothing intimate and yet under his fingers I feel naked; exposed. None of this is helped by the fact that we are let to define our relationship, the way he makes me feel I would say I was his girlfriend. But I have no idea what he's feeling.

He speaks so much bullshit sometimes, it's one of the reasons I like him, a wordsmith trying to find the perfect mix of words to express how he feels. Unfortunately a lot of the time this just makes him completely unreadable.

I feel stuck at a cross roads, my dreams are not showing me anything new. But like Dr Ueda says they are not a scheduled television show, where each week I will get an existing new episode packed with infomation. _I wonder if I can just pre-order the box set?  
_  
A small push, that's all it would take for my life to go in one direction or another. I feel like I'm waiting for something to happen, but I have no idea what. Can I go back to when my biggest problem was missing a hand? _Those were simpler times. _

— — —

"I can't do this Emi, there are too many people!" I stand off to the side of the track with the rest of the team. It's Sunday, it's hot and the grandstands are packed to bursting with people.

"Sure you can!" Emi is jubilant, bouncing with anticipation for the races to begin. _How did I get roped into this?_ I'm sure it must be Emi's fault somehow, she's always spurring me on to do things, it's like her superpower.

I stare across at the visiting track team, I assumed that we would be facing off against a normal school that felt sorry for us. In fact the opposing school is one just like ours, I guess it was pretty naive to assume that Yakamu was alone in providing for the disabled.

"Right everyone, get ready," the track team captain announces. "Girls 100 metre sprint, Emi, Miki you're up."

Eyes fixed to the astroturf of the track I walk out to tumultuous applause. Somewhere in the stands Ikuno and Ryouta are watching. _Oh no!_ Ryouta is going to see me in these tiny damn shorts, i'm never going to hear the last of this. We take our positions on the start line. _Great, now I get to stick my arse in the air._ Who on earth planed this? _Someone with a dirty mind, clearly_.

Come on Miki, come on. I need to focus up. one hundred metres ahead of me a white tape flutters in the breeze, this is my goal, I will not stop until I reach it, nothing else matters. The noise of the crowd seems to dim.

"On your marks…"

"Get set…" Six bodies tense. Wait, is that girl wearing leggings? _You mean I had a choice?_

**BANG! **

The starter's pistol echoes around the grounds, all around me girls burst forth from their crouched positions. _Damn it!_ Distracted I'm slow off the mark. It will be an uphill battle from here, surprisingly though I pull ahead of the first girl I come across with ease and pass the second just as I cross the line.

Forth, that isn't bad. Not for my first race. _Not considering my distraction._ With a longer track I might have placed higher, I simply run out of time to overtake. Emi won of coarse, she looks delighted and I don't blame her. Panting I stride off the track to join the rest of the team, the captain winks at me.

"You did well, bit of a slow start though," He grins at me leaning in conspiratorially. "No one can blame you for checking out the other girls, but can you save the stares for the shower room?"  
_  
I don't think he's joking. _

"I wasn't, I don't, not like that." I lose the power of speech. The captain nods at me in understanding.

"Hey, it's okay don't worry I won't tell anyone." He smiles at me, wandering off to talk to Emi, who's looking at my blushing cheeks with a disgruntled pout. _What does she think just happened?  
_  
Throughly embarrassed I watch the boys events, trying to feign more interest than I really have. The next race is the four hundred metre sprint, my strongest event. I hear my name being called and walk slowly to my mark, my eyes fixed to the floor.

I look up finding the fluttering white tape. _That is my goal, I will not stop until I reach it. Nothing else matters._ The starters words telling us to get ready sound muffled. I hear the pistol as if its a long way off, bursting off the line I make a good start. Emi is slightly ahead, the rest of the girls somewhere a million miles behind us.

Legs burning I begin to edge closer to Emi's tiny frame. She's so fast. I hear nothing but my own heart beat as I pass her, there's only around fifty meters left now. My whole body burns with the effort to keep up this pace. _Only twenty five metres to go._ Emi starts to pull ahead again. _Come on, there's only ten meters left, come on._ I can't dig any deeper and a mere second later I am crossing the line in second place.

I drop to my knees breathing hard. I don't think my legs are ever going to work again. I look up and see with some satisfaction that Emi is laying flat on her back, her modest chest rising and falling quickly. _At least I have something she doesn't. _

I manage to get to my feet and wander back to the team, only the thousand metres remains, hardly mine nor Emi's best event. Especially after two sprints, my only real goal is not to come last. _Might be easier said than done._

The sun is high in the sky as we take our places, with no breeze my sweaty shirt sticks to my back. Just ahead of me Emi takes her place, if she's nervous about the race she doesn't show it. I risk a look at the crowd, to my surprise I see my grandfather sitting in a white suit in the front row. He waves at me.

"On your marks."

I tense, eyes forward and alert.

"Get set." _I wonder who invited him to come and watch?_

I leave that thought on the start line as I burst into action. This race is more about conserving energy than straight up speed, but it's also a balancing act. I need to keep up with the pack else all the conserved energy in the world will count for nothing.

However all my planning turned out to be for nought. One of the girls that we had been constantly beating all morning had found her forte, bounding past us easily on the last stretch a smile on her face. _Ah well fourth, second and third are not bad results if I do say so myself. _

Emi pouts unhappily at the back of the winner as she returns to her school team, I pat her on the shoulder.

"Can't win em' all," I shrug. Emi looks like she would like to debate that point, but our collection of friends and family arrive. An older woman and an armless girl for Emi. Ryouta, Ikuno and my grandfather for me.

"You did great!" Ikuno says hugging me.

"Nice shorts," Ryouta adds with a grin, giving me a one armed embrace.

I thank them both, turning to my grandfather with a grin.

"I didn't expect to see you," I say.

"Disappointed?"

"Nope!" I giggle, throwing my arms around him. He's a little surprised but returns the embrace warmly.

"Well now, someone seems to be in a better mood than when I saw her last."

"It's just runners high," I laugh. "I'll be moody again before long."

"Ah, well then best I speak to you now. Will your friends excuse us?"

Ikuno and Ryouta look at each other then back to me, I nod at them and together they stroll away in search of elusive shade. Placing a hand on my shoulder my grandfather leads me in the opposite direction. Heading for a more secluded spot in Yamaku's extensive grounds.

"You did very well" Grandad says as we reach a small square garden sounded by an immaculately pruned square hedge. Benches are cut into well kept flower beds bristling with life, in the centre is a large white stone with water cascading down its flanks into a pool below. _I've never been here before. _

"Thanks" I say with a grin, bending down to investigate a number of small ornately carved stones scatted in amongst the flowers, each bare a name and a date. _These are grave markers._ "These are students who have passed away?" I ask my voice a little shaky.

"Yes, I believe so." My grandfather watches for my reaction.

"I didn't realise," I read a few names, but have to stop, a lump rising to my throat.

"Not everyone who attends this school is blessed with a long life Miki," his shoes crunch on the gravel path as he moves behind me, placing a hand on my shoulder. _I can't help but feel that if I was dying I would not waste my limited time at school. _

"What did you want to talk about?" I ask, trying to get my head off the subject of death. Not an easy task given our location.

"Your mother told you about your father?" He asks sombrely.

"She did," I shrug.

"And what do you think?"

"Nothing really, I don't know the man." I gently stand, turning to face him. "She said he wants to meet me?"

"Yes, I imagine he would. I know he cares about you a great deal,"

"You've spoken to him?" I ask.

"We keep correspondence, yes. He is my client as well as my son in law."

"Right…" I shrug, looking away. "Well he's nothing to me." He looks at me thoughtfully for a moment, before turning his attention to the ground at his feet.

"I'm afraid to say your mother and I have not been entirely honest with you." He puts his hand inside his well pressed white suit jacket and withdraws a wad of envelopes bound together with string, wordlessly he passes the bundle to me.

"We thought correspondence with your father would have been too much, on top of everything else." His voice is soft, barely louder than the fountain behind him. Glancing down at the envelopes I see they bare my name, but use my grandfathers address.

"Go…" I say, my voice horse.

"Miki, please."

"Get the hell away from me!" I shout, pushing him away with my stump. He nearly trips into the fountain. _How could he do this to me?_ With a sigh he straightens his suit.

"You may not believe this at the moment, but I did what I was thought was best," He sighs softly. "Can you understand?"

"Yes," I mumble. _I don't want to lose him, I learned that lesson from Ikuno._ "I'm still really fucking angry at you though." I snarl, Its the first time I've cursed in front of him, he grimaces.

"Watch your language young lad-" I take a threating step towards him. "Ah, but perhaps I earned it. I will take my leave, my train departs soon."

"Will I see you again?" I ask softly.

"You will Miki, you never knew her but you are just like your grandmother." He smiles wistfully

"Did you ever keep things from her you really shouldn't have?" I ask vindictively.

"I'm ashamed to say I did." With that he once again walks out of my life. _Why does no one contact me for a social call?_ I sink onto one of the benches, the envelopes clutched to my chest. There must be letters dating back years in this bundle, he must have wondered why I never wrote back. _He never stopped though._ The most recent letter bares a date not two weeks ago.

I let sobs take me, my phantom deciding its been ignored too long starts to rip and tear at my hand. Wet tears fall onto my bare legs, I guess I should go and collect my medals. _If I go like this people will think I'm a bad loser._ The sound of crunching gravel interrupts me thoughts, I look up. Ayumu stands in shorts and t-shirt, his white cane held in front of him.

"Miki?" He calls to the air.

"Here," I sniff.

He stops, turning slightly to face my general direction.

"I overheard your argument?" His voice sounds shaky. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine…" I wipe my eyes on the back of my hand. "I don't really want to talk about it."

"Can I sit beside you?" He asks softly. Carefully I stand, taking his hand and glide him down onto the bench, I sit back down next to him. We don't say anything I close my eyes, listening to the fountains trickle, the wind through the trees, I breathe a sigh.

"Ayumu?"

"Yes?" he replies curiously, I open my eyes slowly.

"Will you go out with me?"

His cheeks redden, as he sits bolt upright.

"I want to, but…"

_There's always a but. _

"Miki, you know I graduate this year, we won't have much time." _As if I hadn't thought of this._

"What if I don't care?" I say. I do, of course I do, but if its a choice between a few mouths and never I know what I would choose. _Will he?_

"What if I do?" he replies. I get to my feet quickly, this is going to be painful and I can't handle it. Not on top of everything else. _At least I know now._

"Then that's your choice," I start to walk forward, tears streaming down my face.

"Miki!" He roughly grabs for me, catching my left arm. I shudder as he continues. "I don't want to lose you."

"So what are you going to do about it?" I ask impatiently, turning to face him, freeing my arm in the process.

"I'm going to take you on a date."

"Somewhere nice?" I say, I was half expecting a kiss. But I think that only happens in Ryouta's stupid movies.

"That I guarantee." He says, a smirk playing at his lips.

I feel like a weight has been lifted, I know Ayumu feels the same way now. Even if it won't last forever, even if what we have has a ticking clock, I don't mind. That's more than what a lot of people in this garden had. _I can't see where this road leads, or what I will encounter along the way, but I take my first step off the pavement anyway. _

I sit back down, gently taking his hand, he in turn rests his head against my shoulder.

"Miki?"

"Yeah?"

"You really need a shower," I glower at him for a moment, before we both burst into laugher. _At least I won something today._


	11. Date Night

"You have nothing to wear for a date," Ikuno moans staring into my unorganised closet.

"You are aware that my boyfriend is blind?" I ask, rolling my eyes.

"Miki!" She turns to me looking stern, "That is no reason not to look nice."

"Fine, fine," what do you suggest.

"Have any dresses?" she asks hopefully.

"Nope."

"Skirts?" She turns to me open mouthed.

"I don't think so?" I shrug.

"You're impossible," she groans going back to riffling through my limited selection of clothes.

It's Friday night, tomorrow after school Ayumu has organised our first date. He's not even told me where we're going, deciding surprises are fun. _For him perhaps._ I've tried, and mostly failed to not think about it. With less than a day before the big event I thought it might be wise to ask Ikuno if she had any clothing suggestions, I didn't quite anticipate this reaction.

"Why are all your t-shirts so baggy?" She asks, looking at me incredulously.

"I like them that way, good for running, good for sleeping, what else could you want?"

"I think I might have a blouse you can wear," she sighs. "Have you ever dressed as a girl before?"

"When I was ten I think, I liked dresses and pony's," I grin. "I bet you have a pony somewhere at home." from behind I can see her ears redden.

"I… she's a horse not a pony, plus she belongs to my mum." Ikuno mumbles. I burst out laughing at her embarrassment. _Oh how the other half live._

"Right these," She hands me a pair of black jeans. "And I have a blouse in my room, I think it's the best I can do given the time frame and scale of the problem."

"You know," I smirk, "I think Ryouta is rubbing off on you."

— — —

I meet Ayumu outside the gates, happily he's gone for casual clothes as well, jeans and a simple shirt. I notice his nostrils flare as I approach.

"Miki?"

"Hi," I say nervously tucking a bit of lose hair behind my ear, Ikuno insisting I do something with my mess of purple hair braided it, leaving it hanging down my back.

"That's a lovely perfume,"

"Thanks, Ikuno chose it." I say softly. _As if I would own fancy perfume._

"The bus will be here soon, then the city awaits."

"We're going to the city?" I ask a little surprised. I didn't even know there was one nearby. He nods, reaching out his hand. Taking it I gently lead him over to the bench's beside the bus stop. It would appear we are not the only students visiting the city today, in fact there is a small crowed, gathered in packs of twos and threes. They pay us little attention as we settle onto the wooden seat.

In short order the bus arrives and we climb on board, the driver must be used to this route because he pays my missing hand and Ayumu's closed eyes little mind. I slide into the window seat, the bus starts with a lurch, making me jump. The sensation of moving is unnerving, with a grimace I remember the brutal impact of the bus from my dream.

"Don't like buses?" my date asks, taking my hand in his.

"Not altogether a fan no," I rest my head on his shoulder, it's a little bony, but warm. I've still not told him about my hand or my dreams, perhaps I should have mentioned it before I asked him out. _It's a little late now._ He won't mind I'm sure, but it's going to be an awkward conversation. Then again we only have a few months before he graduates. _What if I never get around to telling him?_

"What are we doing today?" I ask again, I've been asking for almost a week now with nothing but cryptic answers. I don't think I really like surprises, the last few have been awful. _Surprise you have no hand! Surprise you're going to a new school! Surprise! We lied to you for years._

"Patience my dear, all will be revealed."

I grumble incoherently, drawing a chuckle from my companion, who gently strokes the back of my hand with his fingers. Closing my eyes I think about the pile of envelopes sitting on my desk. I've still not opened them, cowardice is my only excuse. _I'm afraid of what I might find._

"We're here," Ayumu says, startling me slightly. How long did I have my eyes closed? _I didn't fall asleep on my first date did I?_

We step off of the bus into the bright afternoon sun, summer is still in full effect. People bustle all around us, as if we were stones blocking a white-water rapid. Quickly taking Ayumu's arm I shuffle in closer to him, he gives my hand a gentle reassuring squeeze.

"I'm not a fan of crowds either," He whispers. I was more worried about him being swept away from me than anything else. _But it's sweet he cares._

After a few moments of quiet contemplation he asks me to confirm the street name and a few seconds of thinking later he gives me directions. We set off at a leisurely pace, on his request I start to describe what's around us. _I don't think I'm doing the sights justice._ Our path leads us to a wide pedestrianised street lined on either side with shops, everything from clothing to electronic boutiques. I slow as we pass a sportswear shop nestled in the shadow of one of the many overhead concrete walkways.

"See something you like?" My date asks, noticing my change of pace.

"It doesn't matter," I smile, intending to walk on.

"We have time for a little retail therapy, I believe."

"Sounds more fun than real therapy," I say not thinking. _Oh great tell him you're in therapy, boys just love that, stupid, stupid, stupid.  
_  
He gives me a odd sideways look, as if trying to work out if I'm joking or not. Desperately I try and save the conversation, hurrying to describe the brightly decorated shop as accurately as possible. Walking through the door I guide him through the racks of clothing to the women's section.

"Oh I forgot to congratulate you on your success at the track meet," he says, frowning a little.

"Thanks, I'm sorry I didn't…," I busy my hands trying to find three quarter length leggings in my size. "I didn't tell you about it."

"Shall we conclude that it was because you wanted to keep me your scandalous secret?"

"I think that sounds right." But it's not the reason, I didn't want to make him sit in the hot sun with nothing to do out of some kind of misguided loyalty to me. "What do you think of these?" I ask, placing the materiel of the black leggings under his fingers.

"They feel divine, will I get the chance to see you in them?" What? _That makes no sense, unless he's going to use his- oh. Oh_. I blush intensely, imagining his warm fingertips running over my legs.

"I don't know," I stammer, cheeks burning as he laughs at my flustered state.

Paying for my legging's takes a little more of my grandfathers allowance than I had anticipated, but anything is better than those shorts. With my purchase happily swinging from my elbow I walk hand in hand with Ayumu down the street.

Delving deeper into the downtown area of the city, we come across a large square. On three of its sides are restaurants and on the forth a large cinema, the entire area is covered by a large canvas roof supported by tall white metal beams. Street vendors pedal their unhealthy treats as pigeons swoop down to collect any dropped scraps.

"Our destination should be directly across from us, assuming my sense of direction has not failed me."

"A cinema?" I ask, a little confused.

"Yes, is that okay? Your friends mentioned you liked movies." A tinge of worry underlines his voice.

"I do but, is it something you can enjoy?" _I don't want him to be bored._

"Miki," he smiles at me softly, "I don't ask much from you, or anyone for that matter. But please let me decided what I can and cannot enjoy." There's no anger in his voice, just a kind of exasperation.

"Your right, I'm sorry." I sigh, I guess this request also would have extended to the track meet. _I should have asked him.  
_  
"You are forgiven completely, shall we?"

— — —

The movie turns out to be brilliant. Any concerns I had about Ayumu's enjoyment are quickly slashed, the staff seemed to know him, a bouncy teenage girl lead us to our seats and passed over a pair of bulky headphones. I was a little confused until Ayumu explained what audio description was. Seeing the look on his face at the climax of the movie, I could tell there was no chance he was feigning his excitement.

Night has fallen when we leave the cinema, but thankfully the air is still warm. I should have thought to bring a jacket. It's only a short walk under a light-polluted starless sky to the Italian restaurant that Ayumu picked out for us. _He really is a hopeless romantic._ I've never eaten anywhere so fancy. _I feel decidedly underdressed._

We are lead to a secluded table, complete with white cloth and candle, in the back of the restaurant. Our suited waiter hands us our menus and takes our drinks order, before disappearing into a swirl of gentle voices and soft piano music. My date leaves his menu folded in front of him while I open mine. _Why the hell is everything in Italian? English is bad enough._

"Would you like some help deciding?" Ayumu prompts.

"I… yes, please." I mumble, feeling the heat rise to my cheeks.

"I suggest the Bruschetta to start followed by… hmmm," He looks to one side, thinking. "Ah, the Pollo Carbonara Is a safe choice."

"Okay, stupid question bu-"

"I looked up the menu online last night," he grins, "I can't remember all of it, but I find three dishes from each course normally serves me well."

"Well lucky one of us is prepared," I smile as our drinks arrive.

"Are sir and madam ready to order?" the waiter inquires.

I let Ayumu handle ordering for both of us, partly because he seems so confident. But mostly because I have already forgotten the foreign names. With our thanks and the waiters low bow the menu's are whisked away.

"Akiyama" he says out of the blue once the waiter is out of ear shot.

"What?" I ask surprised.

"That's my surname, as I said it's quite forgettable. But I thought you deserve to know it."

"Right" I say nervously. I need to do this now, if I wait until after I've eaten I might throw up. _You can do this._ "I'm missing my left hand," I say simply.

"If you are trying to one up my revelation, then I'm afraid I'm forced to concede to you."

"I'm being serious," I groan, but a smile plays about my lips. _I don't know how he can make me smile when talking about my arm, but he does._

"I did wonder why you never used it," he ponders for a moment, "Why didn't you tell me when we first met?"

"I don't know, I don't like to talk about it."

"Ah, I suppose most people spot it quite quickly?"

"Yes," I say looking down at my knees, "Are you mad?"

"No… No I would say I was curious."

"Curious?" I ask.

"Did you enjoy me not knowing?" his tone is hard to read.

"I didn't like lying to you," I say. _I must not ruin this._

"But, and you'll forgive the crude term, you enjoyed being normal around me," his eyebrow raises slightly.

"I did," I say quietly. "Is that wrong?"

"I think we all want to believe we are normal, accepted and valued by everyone around us." He shrugs slightly, "However I believe that sometimes people can spend so much time chasing an impossible ideal that they lose themselves."

"I just get sick of people staring at it, it's like the stump is all I am now." I admit. _Where did that come from?_

"Fools will always read a book by its cover, a smart man is blind to first impressions." He grins. "Luckily, that makes me a genius." I laugh as he breaks the tension. I guess he's right, about the fools not him being a genius. We spend some time discussing the movie until our food arrives.

Watching him eat is fascinating, the care and dexterity with which he eats is amazing. Using his cutlery in the same way master sculptor uses his chisel. I go back to concentrating on my own meal, cutting the soft bread of the Bruschetta using a twisting motion with my fork is effective, though the well presented dish is destroyed in the process. Luckily despite its mangled look it tastes delicious.

"Do you have any plans for after school? Will you attend university?" Ayumu enquires, dabbing at his lips with a napkin.

"Not really," I answer, not entirely truthfully. _A career path has been on my mind, but that thought is not ready for the light of day._ "I'm not really one for making plans, you?"

"Hmmm, either music or literature, assuming my grades are good enough," he smiles softly.

"You play an instrument?" I ask?

"The piano, a bit of a cliché I know," sighing he continues. "I was a very noisy child, a lot of blind kids are, my mother liked the piano because it kept me in one place and I could make all the noise I want through personal headphones."

I giggle, "I spent most of my childhood running off in every direction, according to my mum, I guess that's why I still run today."

Our small talk continues until our mains arrive, luckily my dish turns out to be pasta. It's like they designed it for one handed people. savouring the delicious flavours I smile softly, who would have thought when I woke up in the hospital that I would be able to enjoy a date. _You can lead a relatively normal life._

"How is it?" Ayumu asks, sensing my quietness.

"Its perfect, thank you for all of this."

"Your pleasure is all the thanks I need," he smiles softly.

— — —

"You didn't need to walk me back," my companion says as we stand outside his bedroom door. Having left the restaurant after one of the best meals I've ever had we caught a quiet bus back to Yamaku, it felt only right to escort him back to his room.

"It's okay, gives me a little more time with you." I say softly as he fumbles with his key, with a soft click the door swings open.

"Would you like to come inside for a bit?" his cheeks redden.

I bite my bottom lip. _This has to be against school rules._ "O… Okay."

He disappears into his dark room, I blink after him a little confused. _Oh right._ He has no need to turn on the light. I follow him inside, gently gliding my fingertips up the walls looking for the switch. His hand gently catches my elbow.

"Can we leave the light?" he asks softly. "Let me guide you for once?"

"O..okay," a lump rises in my throat as a I place my hand in his. Behind me the door shuts with a soft thud. I slip my shoes off, kicking them softly against the wall. Gently he guides me through the darkness. I feel him gently push me away, until the back of my knees hit something and I fall with a panicked yelp onto his soft bed.

"Sorry," he laughs.

I giggle looking up into the darkness, wondering if my eyes will adjust soon. Stretching my arms above my head reveals the wall isn't as close as I feared. Letting out a gasp I feel the back of his fingers against my knee. But he moves away quickly, I think he just wanted to know where I am. The bed sags a little as he lays down next to me.

"Are you okay? This isn't too much?" he asks, his voice close by.

"I'm okay, just a little nervous I guess." I don't know what he has planned. I hope it's not _That_. Not that I don't want to experience it, but I don't feel ready. _I hope he won't be annoyed with me._

I feel his finger tips on the side of my face. _This I like._ I smile and move my hand a little clumsily, searching for his face. disentangling my fingers from his hair I locate his cheek, trying to replicate his actions.

"Oh, never been on the receiving end before," he sighs happly, I can feel his smile under my fingers.

"Like it?" I ask a little breathlessly.

"I do," his fingers start to trace down my neck and under my ear. I just focus on not sticking my fingers anywhere inappropriate. His skin feels soft under my touch, I guess this is the only way he knows what I look like. _It must be an oddly disjointed view._

Giggling I let my hands fall behind my head as his probing fingers find the edge of my borrowed blouse, tracing the outline he stops for a moment, before quickly undoing the top button in one fluid motion. I let out a gasp, more out of shock than dislike.

Reaching forward I tug his first button open, he laughs at my lack of subtlety. Somehow it turns into a race and in only a few moments later we are both laying with our shirts open. _I should have worn a nicer a bra._ I look down at the plain white material that seems to glow in the darkened room. _I should own a nicer bra, something with lace._

I trace the dark lines of his slightly hairy chest, I'm rewarded with a startled gasp. My victory is short lived as his finger starts to trace down my bra strap, I'm surprised his fingertips don't leave sparks against my skin. He hesitates for a moment before reaching his goal, tracing the line of my bra above my breasts.

_Oh my…_

Without thinking I reach forward and clutch the side of his face, pulling his lips into mine. He jumps in surprise before kissing back fiercely. What ensues is what can only be described as a kiss wrestling match. I need to work on my subtlety. Before I know what's happening I find myself straddling him, my arms wrapped around his back and my lips locked against his. _Not exactly what I had in mind for my first kiss, but it will do, my god it will do._

One of his hands grips my bum tightly, causing me to giggle into his lips. With a tugging he tries to undo my bra, but gives up after an awkwardly long time, deciding instead to cup me through the martial. _Perhaps I should have told him it undid at the front?_

Apparently boring of my chest his hand creeps down, fumbling with the button on my jeans. I pull away quickly, grabbing his hand with mine. "Sorry," I gasp, "Not yet.

The mood gone I collapse onto my back feeling a little dizzy. _I should remember to breathe more when I kiss._

"I'm sorry, are you okay?" His voice is edged with fear. _I didn't mean to scare him._

"I'm fine," I say softly, stroking his cheek. "Just not ready for that yet, is that okay?"

"Of course, errm," I can feel the heat of his blush below my fingertips. "Would you like to sleep here tonight?"

"I would like that," his fingers start to trace the shape of my belly button tentatively.

"Not going to sleep in your jeans though are you?" He seems to be regaining some of his confidence. I've been told boy's aren't satisfied unless they go all the way. I just hope what happened was enough for him, it was enough for me. _For now._

"Can you keep your hands to yourself?" I ask, slipping the jeans down my legs.

"If you can," he laughs, with sound of his own jeans slithering down his legs.

I find a comfortable spot on his chest to rest my cheek, gently running my fingers over his flesh. Planting a soft kiss on my hair he wraps his arms around me, holding me tight. Our clothes slither abandoned to the floor as he draws the covers over us.


	12. Letter's

I breathe a sigh of relief as I close my bedroom door behind me. Getting back here was no small task. _Who the hell knew they employed night guards?_ I regret having to leave Ayumu in bed, but I had no other choice, being caught sneaking out of the boys dorms is too horrific even to imagine. Getting back into my own dormitories proved to be a challenge as well, I briefly considered phoning Ikuno to lower a rope before I chanced on a lapse in concentration to sneak back inside.

Last night was interesting to say the least, I've never let someone touch me like that. My skin still feels electrically charged where his fingers ran, but it was more than just the intimate touches. Being held at night was wonderful, it felt as if I was safe from my dreams, even my ghost of a hand didn't cause any trouble.

Deciding to be lazy for the rest of the day I quickly strip off the clothes I had only recently put on, slipping into my sleep shorts and a T-shirt that, according to the smell test isn't too old. It's comfortable at least. Slumping down in my office chair I consider my options, I've already completed all my homework and Ikuno will still be aslee, I bet she noticed I didn't come in last night. _It's too early for a million and one questions._

The stack of envelopes that has laid abandoned on my desk since track day catches my eye. They have been taunting me for days. I thought I wouldn't hear any excuses made for my father's absence, for what he did to my mother. _So why am I so desperate to find something to exonerate him?_

Unsurprisingly all the letters have been opened already, presumably by my grandfather. _Happy to lie but would hate to be kept out of the loop._ Hands shaking slightly I untie the string binding the bundle together, carefully looking through the correspondence I decide to start with the oldest date I can find..

_June 4th 1997_

_Dear Miki,_

_Hello sweetie, I bet your feeling very confused about where I am. The truth is I did something I regret very much and I'm not going to be able to see you for awhile. I want you to know daddy misses you more than anything._

_I want you to be a good girl for mummy and remember I love you very much._

_Daddy.  
_  
I stare at the words, unable to move. This is the man I remember when I think of my father, the person who would come home from a hard day at work and before even taking off his coat join me for a tea party or take me outside to play. I've tried not to think about these happy memories over the years, with my father gone they just reminded me of something I could never get back.

I take a deep breath, pulling out the next letter.

In a envelope dated for my ninth birthday, I pull out a hand drawn birthday card, I don't really know what the drawing is meant to be, either a pony, a cat or a dragon depending on how you look at it. _It's the thought that counts._ There's a long gap before the next letter, it's very similar to the first. Full of niceties but no information.

After comes a card for my tenth birthday, hoping I had a lovely time. As I recall my mother was passed out on that day so my grandfather took me out for ice cream, I was too young to really understand what was happening, I snort remember how I thought it was normal. Laying aside the card I find a envelope that looks hopeful.

_January 17th 2000_

_Dear Miki,_

_The year 2000 already! Granddad tells me you went with him and mummy to see the fireworks in Tokyo it must have been really existing. I know your granddad is never without his camera, could you ask him if he can send me some photos?_

_Remember a new year is a new start, a time to forgot about all the things that made you sad or angry last year, know that your loved more than you can imagine. Even if I'm a long way away, I'm still thinking about you._

_If you ever want to write back just ask your mum or granddad they will help you, hope to hear from you soon._

_Love Dad._

My mind drifts back to those fireworks six years ago, I was so excited to be wearing my new Yukata marvelling at the lights of the city. Sighing I push my stump into my stomach, I knew it wouldn't stay dormant for long with all these thoughts running through my head. _I was told having a tranquil frame of mind can help with the pain, fat chance._

Needing some air I open the window, letting in the soft sounds of rustling trees and gentle birdsong. Below me in the grounds some early rising students are making the most of the morning sun. I return to reading at my desk, feeling increasingly helpless. Tearing open another handmade birthday card I notice a thicker than average envelope.  
_  
February 24th 2001_

_Dear Miki,_

_Your grandfather wrote to inform me he has not been passing on my letters. I struggle to understand his reasoning, but if he thinks it's what's best for you I have no choice but to agree. After all I just want you to be happy. To be honest I'm relieved, waiting for a reply that never came was worse than any punishment they can think of here._

_Your grandfather in his letter expressed a wish that I stop writing to you, but I simply cannot. If something were to happen to me I would never see you again, I would never be able to tell you what I want to tell you. My only option is to keep writing to you and hope one day you get to read my words._

_Now on to the original subject of my letter, middle school. It has been awhile since I attended but I can still remember it clearly. It's a strange time, everyone is trying to find themselves and making a lot of mistakes in the process. I'm sure you will as well, but don't worry, mistakes are part of growing up, they don't last forever._

_While at school you might be tempted to change yourself to fit into a crowd, my advice is to avoid this. The star that burns alone burns brightest. I don't mean that you should not make friends, just to ensure the friends you make like you for who you are, not who you might pretend to be._

_I love you more than you could ever know and hope with everything I have that one day read this message and look upon me with kindness._

_Dad._

_PS: Absolutely no boys._

I smile softly to myself, if only I had his advice years ago. _Though I would have ignored him more than likely._ As for mistakes not lasting forever a sharp stab from my left hand disproves that, but I know what he means. The things that used to keep me up at night during middle school, the childish arguments and spiteful spats feel like they happened a million years ago. I'm amazed he chose to keep writing though, I don't know if I could have done the same.

I lean back into my chair unwrapping my thirteenth, fourteenth and fifteenth birthday cards one after another. I guess despite his words he didn't have much worth telling me for three years, then again who knows how much my grandfather told him about my life. The next letter of note comes on the eve of me starting high school.

March 28th 2005

_Dear Miki,_

_High school, it's hard to believe how much you've grown. Your grandfather sent me the photos of your middle school Tanabata festival. You looked beautiful if I do say so myself, I'm so proud of you. Now a new chapter opens in your life._

_This is the time that you choose where the course of your life will take you, I won't begin to presume to tell you what to do. But I can offer some advice. I left school with poor grades, due to my laziness and disregard for schoolwork, upon leaving I started to work at a local factory making furniture I could never hope to afford._

_Slowly despite many hardships my life started to become better, I met your mother and we had you, my proudest achievement. The best thing I will ever do with my time on earth, with this responsibility I worked night and day to support you. It was hard work, but paid well. We were content._

_Only I'm lying, because I was never content in that job, I felt as if my soul was being drained from the moment I arrived until the moment I left, my only consolation was you. I don't wish to imply I resented you for the hours I had to keep, I would do so again with a smile. I simply wish to tell you how important it is to find something you love._

_Many people treat work as a means to an end, a mundane chore that must be completed for life to progress. But there are some who wake up in the morning with a smile on their face knowing they will be doing what they love, I want you to be one of these people. Follow your dreams Miki, don't let anything ever slow or stop you._

_I love you, so much._

_Dad._

_Ps: Still absolutely no boys!  
_  
I place the letter on the table as the first tear stains my cheek, I thought I was abandoned. _I thought I wasn't loved_. And because of someone's best intentions I've been kept in the dark for close to ten years. But that's not the worse part. The worst part is that the people who have betrayed me are my family, the only people I have ever loved. _There's no escaping that._

With shaking hands I unfurl the last letter. It's the only thing I can think to do.

_January 28th 2006_

_Dear Miki,_

_Your grandfather wrote to tell me about the accident, I know this message is unlikely to reach you. That you will be laying in a hospital bed thinking I have abandoned you, just know nothing could be further from the truth._

_I've not even been told the extent of your injuries or the exact nature of the accident. For the first time in close to ten years I planned to escape this place, to be with you when you needed me most. But I'm an old man now, my health is not as it was and I venture it's little more than a pipe dream._

_In a few weeks I will be speaking in front of a parole board and I hope that all going well I will be released, I hope very much to see you. Though I'm old enough now to know that sometimes dreams do not become reality._

_I hope that you are okay and that I see you soon. I love you, never forget that._

_Dad._

Dropping the letter onto the desk my pulse starts to race. Even after my accident, even when I was alone and confused, even then they could not trust me with the truth. I want to punch something, scream at the top of my lungs how unfair this all is. My phantom hand clenches tightly in my lap, though in support or mockery I can't be sure. _I need to do something._

I stand up sharply. _I have to see him._ Dressing in record time I nearly fall into the hallway in my haste to get out. Disregarding even the basic necessities for travel I flick open my phone quickly finding my grandfathers number from my contacts, I listen to the dialling tone as I head in purposeful strides to the steps.

"Hello Miki?" His voice is hushed.

"I need to come home, right now, I need a taxi or something." I speak quickly, hitting the first flight of stairs.

"What Why? Miki, slow down."

"I've read the letters, you, you," my mind races through words serious enough for his crimes. "Monster!"

"Ah," he says defeated.

"I need to see him, I need to talk!" I nearly trip in my haste to get down the next flight of stairs, I manage to save myself by clutching the handrail with my stump.

"Hang on Miki, please, just hang on."

"Why should I?" I growl.

"Just let me arrange something, please, don't leave the school," he sounds desperate. _Serves him right._ "Just say you won't leave until I phone back?"

"You have half an hour," I snap, hanging up the phone.

_Now what?_

\- - -

I sit cross legged under the stairs glowering at the phone on my knee, people passing on their way to breakfast stare at me curiously but thankfully ignore me. _I don't feel like talking._ My phantom hand seems to roar in displeasure, opening and closing its fist, stretching and twisting my fingers.

After what seems like an impossibly long time my phone rings, echoing all the way up the stairwell.

[Mum: Calling…]

"Mum I don't want to talk about it!"

"…Miki?" A timid male voice answers.

"Dad?" I didn't think I would call him that. If you had asked me a few hours ago I would have said you were mad to even imagine it. But now, now it feels right. _I feel like I know him, at least a little._

"I read your letters, I'm sorry."

"Oh Miki, Miki, you have nothing to be sorry for," his voice cracks slightly. "I hardly recognise your voice, it's been so long."

"I want to come and see you," I say softly.

"You have school sweet," he chuckles weakly.

"I don't care," I say quickly. "You've waited so long…"

"Exactly, I can wait a little longer," he sighs softly. "I'm afraid you've inherited this families knack for acting with our hearts before our heads." I giggle softly, my heart rate slowing.

"I guess, sometimes I lose my temper," I frown. _And argue with my best friend nearly splitting us apart forever._ On the other end of the phone dad laughs.

"When will I see you then?"

"Your grandfather mentioned you had a three day weekend soon?" _Do I?_

"Err.. yeah, I'm not sure exactly when." I stumble a little, best not to let on I don't even know when my own holidays are. _I should really listen more, or rely on Ikuno less, one of the two._

"Excellent, we will see each other then," he pauses, "I can't wait." He does not sound well, though he mentioned in his letter he was starting to feel his age.

"We could talk now?" I suggest.

"I think it would be better face to face sweet. We have all the time in the world" I sigh, he's right. Feeling a little stupid for acting so rashly I say my goodbyes, drawing them out for as long as I can. Having read the letters I felt like I had been robbed of time with my dad, that I had to make up for years in hours. _I can't reclaim the past._ I can't get back what was taken, I can only do my best with what I have left.

"Miki?" I look up into the wide blue eyes of my best friend, Ikuno was apparently not asleep but judging by her overstuffed bag catching up with student council stuff. "What are you doing down here?"

_Wait, student council this early on a Sunday, seems unlikely._

"I spoke to my dad," I reply softly.

"Oh?" She sits down next to me, her brow creased. "About the letters?" I nod slowly.

"Are you okay?"

"I think so…" I get to my feet slowly, waiting for her next question, but it never comes.

_If she doesn't know I didn't make it in last night, that can only be because she didn't. Then that means she must have spent the night with Ryouta_.

"Miki?" She asks nervously.

"Sorry half asleep, did you have a nice evening last night?" I ask, trying to sound innocent. She looks away quickly, her ears glowing red.

_Oh you little minx._

Together we start to climb the stairs, Ikuno and I have a lot to discuss. She's going to want to know what happened on my date, before I would have avoided the questions with everything I had, but I don't think I want to now. _It's not good to keep things from people you love. _


	13. Laces, Trains and Rain

Laces, Trains and Rain.

"I'm so sorry," Ayumu says softly from his perch on my bed.

"It's fine, don't worry about it," I try not to let my displeasure show in my voice. "I'm sure I can get home by myself."

In a few days I will be leaving Yamaku to return to my family home for a three day weekend, Ayumu was meant to be coming with me. Best laid plans huh. Now it turns out his mother wants him home and apparently there's no arguing with her. People with normal parents confuse me. I'm trying not to take this personally, but it's hard.

"If there was any other way," he sighs.

"I said it's fine." I sit down next to him, catching him off guard I wrap my arms around his chest. It's not fair to be mad at him for this, even if that's how I feel.

"I'm going to miss you though," I say into his shoulder, I've seen him every day since the track meet.

His arms work their way tentatively around me, "I'm going to miss you more than the desert misses the rain."

"That was awful," I grin.

"I hit a bum note, it happens," he shrugs, his cheeks lighting up with a nervous smile.

Sitting up in bed I start to trail soft kisses up his neck. Well if I'm not going to see him for awhile. He moans softly in response. With one fluid motion I slide onto his lap, facing him with my knees still on the bed. Delicately he slides his hands under my shirt, crawling up my skin until they are gripping the flesh of my back. Falling forward I cup his face roughly in my hand as his grip on my back tightens. My kiss is desperate and hungry. Subtlety be damned.

I pull away for a moment, breathing hard. "It undoes at the back," I say keenly, pressing my lips back against his before he can answer. In response he fumbles with the catch of my bra, releasing it quickly. Has he been practising?

A moan escapes my lips as his hand gently cups my breast, the difference in how rough we are with each other nearly makes me laugh. I don't think he minds me being rough though. Images start to run through my mind of where this might lead, unfortunately this scandalous chain of thought is interrupted by my door opening with a massive bang.

With a squeal I jump away from Ayumu, landing hard on my backside in a pile of dirty laundry. Glaring at the door I meet the eyes of the intruders. Ryouta and Ikuno stare at me open mouthed, my cheeks start burn.

"What's going on?" Ayumu asks, his cheeks as red as mine.

"We… came to see you," Ryouta sniggers, trying exceptionally hard not to burst out laughing.

"And you've never heard of knocking?" I grumble, getting to my feet.

"I'm sorry Miki, Ryouta was in a rush, I did try and tell him." Ikuno says mournfully, her hand over her mouth.

"Right… Ikuno, cover your boyfriends eyes." She does so, giving me a confused look.

"What's going on?" Ryouta asks, trying to peek past the pale fingers held across his face.

Quickly I take my bra off under my T-shirt, throwing it into the laundry pile I landed on, with a swift kick I hide it with a t-shirt. Ryouta seeing that would not be fun, I already get enough about the shorts. "Oh," Ikuno giggles in understanding, taking her hands away from Ryouta's face.

"What happened? What did I miss?" he asks, looking between me and Ikuno, even giving Ayumu a hopeful look.

"Something magical," Ikuno winks at me. Her boyfriend looks between us confusedly going to say something, but is silenced with a look. That's a neat trick.

Ayumu is very quiet, his cheeks not quite their normal shade yet. Sitting down beside him I gently take his hand. I think he gets a bit overwhelmed when my friends are around, not out of shyness. It's like he's not sure when to insert himself into conversations, though with Ryouta's special brand of insanity that's hardly surprising.

"So what did you want?" I ask, looking up at them with a forayed brow.

"Right," Ryouta slaps his forehead with his stump. "You need to tell Ikuno to tell her parents that I should be able to go home with her."

So looks like weekend planning is going well in their camp as well.

I rub my head with the flat of my palm. "I thought that was the plan anyway?"

"It was," Ikuno groans. "I thought they would be okay with it, then I get a call from my dad about how he has all the stuff planned and Ryouta is no longer invited."

"But surely you can talk sense into them?" Ryouta pleads.

"I can't I told you, they don't listen to me!" She looks like she's on the verge of tears. Should I be feeling grateful for the neglect? Seems much less stressful.

"Why doesn't Ryouta go with Miki?" Ayumu says unexpectedly.

"What?" All three of us look at each other, a little stunned.

"I thought you were going with her?" Ikuno points out. I explain the situation as quickly as I can, feeling a headache start to build. This is too much thinking for after a therapy appointment.

Initially I was reluctant to let any of my friends meet my parents, because I had no idea how they would react. I don't want sympathy. The idea grew though, and before I knew it I was looking forward to showing Ayumu my home.

"What do you think?" Ryouta asks his girlfriend.

The relief in Ikuno's face is clearly visible as she clutches at a way out of her situation. "I think it's better than being stuck at school, as long as Miki's okay with it?"

"I don't mind, I guess, Ayumu?"

"I have no objections, it was my suggestion after all."

"Right," I say.

"Good," Agrees Ikuno.

I catch Ryouta's eye, he looks at the floor quickly. I guess he really didn't have much say in what just happened, then again neither did I. At least no one is being left behind. Even if plans have changed quite dramatically I can still trust Ryouta with whatever happens this weekend. Though he won't be as much fun as having Ayumu to share my bed. Cuddling definitely helps me sleep, perhaps I didn't get enough as a child.

With many repeated apologies and promises to make things up to one another my friends leave the room. I collapse back onto my bed, startling Ayumu. "Sorry," I mumble, pushing my hand over my eyes.

That was embarrassing, well at least I still had my t-shirt on when they walked in, and my skirt thinking about it. I might as well throw myself out of the window if Ryouta ever saw me in my undies. I wonder if Ikuno has shown him what she wears under her school uniform?

A blush touches my cheeks. I'm surprised at Ikuno's reaction though, she spoke of being treated like the family baby before, but it's like she's almost afraid of her dad. Or more likely afraid of his disapproval. Reading between the lines it seemed as if she had not mentioned her boyfriend, was she hoping they would be too busy to notice?

"Would you care for a back massage?" He slides a little closer to me, finding my side with his fingertips, "I looked it up online last night, it sounds interesting."

"That sounds lovely," I smile, slipping my shirt off and rolling onto my front. I hope he read the right guide, otherwise I may never walk again. I giggle when his hands find me, tracing the outline of my prone body. Very carefully he straddles me, sitting lightly on my thighs.

His hands gently start to trail up to my shoulders. The feeling of warm fingertips against my skin is magic as always, I feel the embarrassment and worry start to evaporate. This is why I need him around. Finding the spot where my bra strap normally sits he stops then lets out a small chuckle.

"So that's what that sound was!"

— — —

It feels surreal to be on a train again, last time I was full of so many conflicting emotions. Fear, worry, pain. Now it's like I'm being carried away from home to the endless unknown. I have no idea what I'm supposed to be feeling. Are they expecting me to let them be parents? That ship has passed, as far as I'm concerned we are equals, old friends meeting again for the first time.

Ryouta sits across from me, his phone resting on his lap.

"She won't be home yet," I say softly.

"I know, but I don't want to miss her text."

Leaning back I watch the countryside flicker past the window. I assume Ayumu will call when he gets home, we didn't make any solid plans. Then again I think we both like our independence, I doubt he would watch his phone for my call any more than I would for his. Not that I don't miss him. But sometimes it feels like we are two stowaways on the same ship, huddled close for safety and warmth, but still ultimately strangers bound to part when we make port.

"Do you think Ikuno's embarrassed by me?" Ryouta asks, staring at his phone.

"No?" I answer, surprised. "What makes you say that?"

"She didn't want me to meet her parents?"

"I think she did," I shrug, "I don't think she expected so much attention from them, honestly I think she was taking you so she would have someone to talk to."

"What makes you think that?" His glasses are slightly askew.

"Just an educated guess." I reach forward straightening his glasses.

"Thanks mum," he smiles at me, before nearly falling off his seat when his text message alert sounds. I leave him to his fevered button pressing. Playing with the bandages around my stump, I don't really need to wear them of course, the physical wound has healed long ago. But I don't like the idea of looking at the mangled mess of skin all day every day.

— — —

Rain pours down as we step off the train onto the gloomy platform, Ryouta's eyes widen as he stares at the paint flaking from the metal supports and the vandalised benches. Yep, this is definitely home. As we exit through the turnstiles into the car park there are a handful of vehicles and only one person, a solitary woman waiting under an umbrella, she waves at us.

With my bag splashing through puddles I approach, she's middle aged, her skin starting to wrinkle and hair starting to grey. It's like her body is desperately clinging onto the youth that passed her a long time ago.

"Good afternoon, I'm Miss Kita your mother's housekeeper." She looks us over as we stand in the rain. Finally seeming to come to a conclusion she snatches our bags without asking, I share a glance with Ryouta as she leads us to a small red car.

"Would you like some help getting the bags in?" I ask as she opens the boot, she frowns at me as if I had made an inappropriate joke. Have I done something wrong?

"No thank you, please make yourself comfortable."

Sliding into the back seat beside Ryouta, who is engrossed in his phone once again, I push a strand of wet hair out of my face. Well we're either being taken home or being kidnapped, either way at least we're out of the rain. Not long after the boot closes our sensibly dressed chauffeur climbs into the driver seat.

"Are you two okay with your seat belts?" she asks from the front. What the hell? I share a glance with Ryouta who just rolls his eyes.

"I'm good thanks," I say, trying not to sound too irritable.

The rest of the drive home is spent in silence, though I do notice our driver keeps looking in her rear view mirror, presumably out of fear we might lose more limbs while she's not looking. Trying to ignore her I focus on the streets around us, sporadic memories of hours wasted flash through my mind. I wonder which street I was on when I lost my hand?

— — —

Open mouthed I stare around our small apartment, it's changed completely. It's so clean. The windows that were once permanently closed are propped open, letting the smell of the rain washed streets float in. The coffee table home to bottles and dust, now shines, with a stack of knitting supplies handily in reach of the threadbare recliner.

Even the inhabitants have changed, my mum stands next to the worn sofa, her hands held behind her back as she waits for my approval. I can hardly recognise her, she looks bright and alert in clean clothes with well kept hair. Miss Kita despite my initial impression is some kind of miracle worker.

Standing beside my mum is a short thin man, I don't recognise him, but he must be my Dad. It's from him I get my skin tone, his wrinkled teak skin contrasts with his silver hair. Not grey, grey hair does not shine like that. He smiles nervously, I smile back. I have no idea what to say to him.

Very aware of Ryouta behind me I cross the room in three strides, wrapping my arms around my mum. She seems a little surprised, but hugs back happily, my father watching with a smile on his face. The pair of them are so thin and frail. I'm a little afraid to squeeze too tightly.

"Look at you," my dad is the first to talk, as I pull away from the embrace. His voice seems vaguely familiar, holding me at arm's length he eyes me up and down. "You've grown so much, but my god, your hand?"

"It's fine," I say, quickly cutting him off. That talk can wait for another time. "This is my friend Ryouta," I step back to gesture to my plump friend, who bows deeply, almost losing his glasses.

"I thought he was blind?" My mum says with blunt surprise. Did she take his awkward stillness for blindness? I feel my cheeks start to redden.

"No," I explain slowly, "That's my boyfriend, he couldn't make it."

"Boyfriend?" Now it's my dad's turn to sound surprised. Behind me I hear Ryouta burst out laughing, before nearly choking in his effort to stop. That'll teach him.

"I am seventeen you know," I frown. Having an argument would not be a good way to start our weekend.

"Seventeen is still young."

My objection is interrupted by the housekeeper. "Dinner will be ready soon. Why don't you two wash up and get out of some of those wet clothes, you'll catch your death"

While giving Ryouta a brief tour I'm amazed at how well the place has cleaned up, all of the house work used to be mine, I didn't leave the place in a complete mess. But it was never exactly clean. Happily my room seems to have been left untouched, I'm grateful. Things might be messy, but it's my mess. I sit down on my bed while Ryouta's eyes wander around the room.

"Your family seem nice," he says, rummaging through my dusty bookshelf. I've not touched those old children's books for years.

"Yeah," I sigh, "I hope they like me."

"Well they care about you, just don't do your normal Miki thing and you'll be fine."

"My Miki thing?" I ask, eyebrow raised.

"You know, not telling anybody what you're thinking or how you feel," he grins at me. Blah, I'm getting better at that. I have no one to talk to for most of my life, and now that I do they want me to be a chatter box. Thinking about it, this weekend is going to keep Dr. Ueda going for weeks.

I would argue the point, but we get called back for dinner, I settle myself at the table surprised to learn we're being served. Well this is new. My parents sit across from me, shockingly they are holding hands. I smile softly at them. Didn't think I would see mum do that again. Our food arrives, disturbingly it has been cut up for me and Ryouta.

"What the he-" an under the table kick from Ryouta cuts me off mid sentence. Everyone has stopped to stare at me.

"What Miki means is that it's very kind of you to cut our food for us." he shoots Miss Kita a winning smile. "But we are quite capable by ourselves, otherwise we would have wasted away."

Miss Kita mumbles something about just trying to help. I guess I should have expected a reaction like this from some people. Ryouta has lived like this his entire life. Between the hospital and Yamaku I have hardly spent any time around normal people.

With an embarrassed air we dig into our meal. It's not bad. I will never admit it, but being pre-cut does make it easier to eat. With dinner finished Miss Kita departs for the night and we spend the rest of the evening in front of the television. Like a normal family, plus Ryouta. Very little is said, I don't know how to bring up any of the things I want to talk about, neither do my parents judging by how they look at each other. In the end I give up and lose myself in the colourful game show filling the screen.

— — —

I can't move, I can't move! Panic rips through my body as the squealing horn pounds in my head. I make another agonising effort to free myself from the wreckage of the truck. It's useless I'm paralysed, only my head is free from whatever invisible force binds me. Feeling hot tears run down my face I turn my attention back to Tatsuo.

"H..hey… wake… wake up," my voice croaks horribly, I can taste blood in the back of my throat. There's no response, but I didn't think there would be, I just hoped.

A sound of braking glass distracts me. Looking up slowly as if in a haze I see a heavy black boot kicking through the windscreen, I close my eyes as I'm showered in tiny diamonds as the glass finally gives in.

"H… help," I beg the man who half climbs inside the cab. He ignores me, reaching instead for Tatsuo. Looking up I catch his distinctive emerald eyes, he gives me a vaguely apologetic look, before returning to his task. Reaching inside Tatsuo's leather jacket he pulls out a wad of bank notes.

"P… Please… H… help!" I cry as he hurries away from the truck.

I wake up with a start, my arm out stretched to grab for some invisible intruder. What the hell? Sitting up with a shudder I stretch my arms and legs, just to make sure I'm no longer paralysed, feeling more shaken than afraid.

Stroking the bandages of my stump I realise I was expecting pain that hasn't come. Well that's progress. I've seen those emerald eyes before, but I can't recall where. Unless that was a memory and not a dream, but if that's true it raises more questions than it answers.

I extricate myself from my covers, standing up. I'm a little surprised to find myself in my old bedroom. I need to clear my head. I change into my running clothes in the moonlight, not knowing what time it is having left my clock back at Yamaku. I peek out of the window, It looks the right time for a run. The rebellious night awaits.

Opening my door slowly I step out into the living room, my running shoes in my hand. Ryouta sleeps peacefully on the sofa, a ray of moonlight illuminating his face. Bless him. He's not alone in the room though, a thin figure sit's at the dining table, shrouded in darkness. Dad?

"Hi," I say softly as I approach, mindful not to wake Ryouta.

"Miki, are you okay?"

I shrug, "Can't sleep, you?"

"I haven't been sleeping too well either," he eyes me up and down. "Are you going somewhere?"

"I like to run," I take a seat across from him.

"Oh, you always did," he smiles at me. "You were a little terror when you were a kid, I could barely keep up, It's a little late though isn't it?"

I shrug.

We sit in silence, neither of us seeming to know what to say, It's like talking to a stranger. This is ridiculous. The letter might have thrown me, but I need to remember what this man did to mum.

"Why did you go to prison?" I ask, meeting his eyes unflinchingly.

"I guessed you would want to know, but before I tell you, please understand how deeply ashamed I am of my actions."

I nod slowly. So he's going to be honest.

He clears his throat, apparently this has been rehearsed.

"One night I went out for a colleagues leaving party, he was younger than me and as young man do found his enjoyment from drinking heavily. I went along with his wishes, after all it was his party," He takes a deep breath. "At one point in the evening I consumed far too much drink and when a fight broke out over a petty matter I intervened despite my better judgement. I pushed a man away from my co-workers."

I wonder if this was meant to be in a letter, it sounds like it.

"Go on," I urge,

"He tripped and fell, his head hit a curb stone. Emergency services were called but there was nothing anyone could do for him, I was arrested that night." He rushes through this last sentence, eyes downcast.

"So it was an accident?" I say softly.

"I never meant to hurt him badly no, but through my actions, no matter my intentions, he died." In the moonlight his eyes glisten. "Two daughters and a son lost their fathers that night."

"I'm sorry," I hate it when people say that to me, as if it helps anything. But I honestly can't think of anything else to say.

"You have nothing to be sorry for Miki," He looks up at me, his bloodshot eyes catching the moonlight.

I shrug, "You lost so much of your life over a stupid mistake."

"I have been punished most severely for my mistake, I've had to miss watching you grow. My mistake cost you and your mother dearly." It's hard to gage his tone, bitter, regretful, sad?

"I should have been there for you," he admits gruffly.

Telling him that I didn't notice his absence comes to mind, but I've been telling myself that for a long time. I'm not sure it's true anymore, if it ever was. What should I tell him? That he didn't deserve what happened to him? I think he knows that, and what help would it be anyway. I didn't deserve to lose my hand but I did. At least I hope I didn't deserve it.

"May I see your arm?" he asks, his voice barely a whisper but loud enough to shatter my chain of thoughts.

"I don't like people touching it," I reply, crossing my arms in front of me on the table.

"How did it happen?" he asks.

"I don't know," I reply with a sigh, explaining what happened after I woke up, the army of strange doctors and nurses, my loss of memory. I even explain how hard it was to get used to being lopsided. As Ryouta so neatly puts it. I don't mention the dreams or the phantom pains though, he wouldn't understand.

"I'm so sorry," he says, reaching across the table he takes my good hand.

"Don't say that." Using my thumb I trace the back of his hand, his skin is paper thin. "There's nothing to be sorry for, try-" I have to think for a moment. "Try that sucks."

Staring at me open mouthed he shakes his head slowly, "My Miki you are marvel, aren't you?"

"I don't know about that," I grimace. "Just Miki is enough for me,"

Finding myself opening up to him I have to hide a smile. He's the type of person I like talking to, straight to a point then move on, with no need to draw out what can't be changed. I think the term realist fits.

"So you're back with mum then?" I wonder aloud.

"Yes, I've missed her greatly. We will be taking things slowly," he yawns into his hand. "Excuse me."

"Go get some sleep dad," I turn in my seat, slipping my feet into my running shoes. Gah laces.

To my surprise my dad appears in front of me, kneeling down with a cracking of joints. I wince.

"You don't have to, I can…" I trail off as he starts to tie my laces. An image of me sitting in this chair when I was younger, so young that my feet didn't touch the ground flashes across my mind. As does the man tying my laces as he did all those years ago. Thanks dad.


	14. Limited Time Offer

**Limited Time Offer**

I sigh contentedly, after spending the last hour or so following my feet down vaguely familiar streets it feels amazing to step into a luxuriously hot bath, I hope no one needs a shower this morning, because this room is officially mine.

With a small splash I submerge my stump under the white fluffy bubbles. _I might have gone a bit over the top with the bubble bath, nah more is always better._ It's nice being able to hide my deformity, at school in the showers I'm forced to see it, even when I try and look away it draws me back. _Like that biology video about slug mating, both fascinating and disgusting. _

I hope dad managed to get some sleep last night after our talk, he did look better once he had his story off his chest. _I guess it works with my bad dreams, once I talk to Ikuno I feel much better._ Part of me thinks I should be trying harder to resent him. _It's ridiculous I know, but it feels like I'm not reacting properly_. People in movies don't move on this fast do they? They have all these issues that can only be worked through by saving the world.  
_  
These thoughts are too complicated and confusing after a sleepless night._

—

"I think it kinda looks like Shizune," Ryouta says peering through a wall of netting at a beautiful owl, perched on a barren tree branch.

"That's mean," I scold, though now I look at it with dark rings around its eyes I can see the resemblance. At my suggestion we have come to the local zoo, I always liked it here when I was little and not so cynical.

Ryouta checks his phone for what has to be the tenth time as we walk between two cages filled with seemingly very bored animals. _I wonder if this is what the Yamaku festival looks like to visitors?_

"What's she doing today?" I ask softly. N_ot many things bother Ryouta, Ikuno might be one of them._

"She said she was shopping in the city with her mum," he sighs.

"Well then, she's going to be distracted right?"

"I guess, It's just-"

"Mummy what's wrong with their arms?" A shrill voice shouts from somewhere behind us. My cheeks start to burn as I see a young girl pointing at us, a look of shock on her face. Every pair of eyes in the vicinity turns to us. _Perhaps I should run, Ryouta would catch up, eventually._

To my surprise Ryouta laughs, answering clearly, "You see all the signs that say don't feed the animals?"

The little girl nods, her mother as red with embarrassment as I am.

"Well," he holds out his stump. "That's what happens when you ignore them."

She gasps, turning to her mother, "You said we could feed the goats later!" With her hands on her hips and indigent look on her face it's like seeing our class rep at age three. Her mother, who throws us a look somewhere between annoyance and apology hurries away with her child in tow. Free show over and light chuckle had, the crowd disperses, still throwing us interested looks.

"You okay?" he asks, his smile faltering as he catches the look on my face.

"How do you do that?" I ask, my hand tingling for the first time in days.

"Oh, she wasn't being cruel, just curious I think." He shrugs, "You get used to it."

"Do you?" I ask sombrely.

"Yes grumpy, you do." linking his stumped arm through mine, he grins. "Now, let's get you some ice cream! Then sea lions!"

I follow him, shaking my head but with a smile on my face, his excitement is infectious.

"What?" he laughs, seeming to have forgot his phone and his worries. "No one can feel self conscious around sea lions."

After stopping off at the open air stands for some strawberry Ice cream, we head to the sea lion pool, licking our treats. Having missed the show, we sit in the empty stands. Watching the animals, that seem to be having more fun doing their own thing anyway.

"So what were you saying?' I ask.

"Huh?"

"Before the shouting toddler?"

"Oh, that," he kicks at the dusty ground. "I was going to say, I've never had a girlfriend."

"Okay?" I ask cautiously, raising my eyebrow

"I don't want to mess things up."

"Well, I don't think that's likely is it? I mean you're a fun guy and Ikuno likes spending her time with you," I shrug. I'm missing something.

"People say they like spending time with me." Scraping his foot on the dusty floor he continues, his voice quiet. "In middle school I used to hang around with a bunch of people, they used to say they where my friends."

Ryouta looks more sombre than I've ever seen him before.

"They used to joke around a lot, normally about me or my arm you know? I didn't know better, I thought it was normal." He stares at his feet. "I invited them all to my thirtieth birthday party, none of them showed up. The next day at school they acted like it was all a joke, like I was a joke."

Should I hug him? _He looks like he needs a hug._ I don't know the rules for comforting someone else's boyfriend.

"I don't want Ikuno to think I'm just a joke." He sighs.

I never really considered Ryouta as the kind of person to be friendless, he's always so outgoing and friendly. I guess people must get bullied at Yamaku, though I've never seen it.

"I don't think you're a joke…" I say softly, "You make this," I hold up my stump shyly. "Well you make me feel better, and if Ikuno has any sense in her head she will feel lucky to have you."

He nods slowly, I don't think he quite believes me. _Ikuno cares about him though, I guess he will learn that sooner or later._

"Thanks Miki," he says softly, giving me a one armed hug, before withdrawing his phone. Shaking my head at him I return to my ice-cream, watching the sea-lions play in the sunlit water. _Despite my cynicism, I still like the zoo.  
_

Having gotten back from the zoo Ryouta has disappeared into my room to phone his beloved. While mum helps Miss Kita in the kitchen, I join Dad on the sofa, my eyes drifting automatically to the television screen. _Why is nothing interesting ever on?_ Sitting like two strangers at a bus stop we watch in silence.

"Hey Miki," he says softly, turning to me with a smile.

"Hi," I say, my eyes fixed on the screen.

Slowly we start to chit chat. It's strange, when we knew there was something we needed to talk about the words came easily. Simple conversation seems harder though. _It's okay, new friendships take time.  
_  
"So what are your plans for after school?" he asks.

_Can I tell him what I couldn't tell my boyfriend?_

"Promise not to laugh?" I say, intently watching the silent news presenter talk into the camera.

"I promise."

"I was kinda thinking about becoming a physical therapist," I grimace. _It's a stupid idea really, I'm not smart enough for one thing and for another I don't even know if you can be a one handed therapist._

"That's a good profession, but why physical therapist in particular?"

"In the hospital she was the only doctor I got on with, or seemed willing to help," I laugh softly. "I'm not even sure she was a doctor."

The smiling Australian, who despite my formidable protests and rotten mood got me back on track, pops into my mind's eye. _It's a stupid goal, but it's something to aim for none the less._ Perhaps I could ask the nurse what he thinks? He's like a grown up _Slightly_ more mature Ryouta, but I get the feeling he would give me some good advice.

Ryouta picks this moment to emerge from my room, firing a bright knowing smile in my direction. _Oh that is never good._ I consider running straight to my room to search for booby traps or missing underwear. _I knew I shouldn't have left him in there alone._

Unfortunately dinner gets in the way of my search efforts. Tonight my food has been left untouched by miss Kita, though she still gives me pitying looks from across the table. _Blah, normal people._

"Please dear, if you need help just ask." Miss Kita says despairingly.

"She can do it, leave her be," mum interjects sternly.

With a new found appreciation for my mother we spend the rest of the meal chatting happily about school. As it turns out she was somewhat of a track star herself during her school days, as well as being her class rep. _It's hard to picture her before the drinking._

I'm helping to clear the table when a knock on the door stops everyone in their tracks. We look at each other, it's evening too late for most visitors. No one seems keen to make the first move. _Fine_. Edging towards the door with dad in tow I pick up an umbrella from the stand. Getting ready to slam it in any intruders face, slowly I open the door.

The sight that greets me takes my breath away. Ayumu eyes shut tight stands in a long coat, a bag at his feet. He looks positively terrified.

"A… Ayumu?" I stammer.

"Miki!" He smiles brightly in relief. "I was worried I had the wrong house, again."

Somewhere out on the street a car horn sounds, disturbing the quiet night air and setting off a horde of barking dogs.

"Oh yes!" Ayumu stuffs a hand full of crumpled notes towards me. "Can you pay the taxi please?"

"S..sure," I stumble, pulling my shoes on. "Come in," I exclaim excitedly, letting him tap his way inside the house. I tell him to make himself comfortable, Before I dart out into the cool night. Finding the yellow cab waiting by the curb, I jog over, the driver throwing me an irritated look.

"Did that kid find the right house yet? I've been driving around for hours."

_Isn't driving around your job?_

"He did, thank you for your patience, how much is it?"

Handing over the correct change I return to the house as the grumbling driver speeds away. I only find Ayumu's shoes in the doorway, kicking mine off quickly I rush into the living room.

"Surprise!" Ryouta grins at me. _So this is what he was smiling about._ At least that means my room is safe. _Right_?

Ayumu, stands nervously in front of my parents and Miss Kita waiting for introductions.

"Mum, dad," I say timidly. "This is Ayumu Akiyama, my, err… Boyfriend."

"A joy to meet you," he says with a low bow, not quite facing my parents. _Why does no one prepare you for situations like this?_

"It's nice to meet you Ayumu, I'm Miki's father," I notice a distinct change in his voice, like he's trying to sound tough. Apparently pleased with the effect he turns to mum. Who unfortunately is too busy eyeing Ayumu up and down, she gives me a not so subtle wink.

"This is an unexpected visit, I'm Haruka Miura, Miki's mother" by contrast her tone is light and polite.

"How did you even get here?" I ask, not quite over the shock, but able to talk normally again at least.

"Ryouta kindly provided your address, I took a train and then that taxi"

"But your mum?" I take his hand, causing him to jump.

"I explained that I wanted to see you, and that I could spend ample time with her after graduation."

Out of the corner of my eye I notice the silent Miss Kita wince at his use of the word 'see'.

"A kind gesture, but I'm afraid we don't have any sleeping accommodation for you at the moment," my dad states solemnly, though it's not hard to hear the glee in his voice.

"He'll share with me," I say. _It's not a question._

"Miki, if your father is against it," Ayumu says timidly.

"My father wants to get to know me," I feel my temper start to rise. _Control yourself._ Taking a deep breath I continue before anyone can interrupt. "This is me, I'm not a child anymore."

"I… well, what do you think about this?" With a look of desperation he turns to my mother.

She smiles at me, "I agree with her, she's a big girl now she can make these choices."

My dad looks like he wants to keep arguing, happily the awkward silence is broken by Miss Kita, who I'm pleased to see looks stunned, when she says she must be heading home. With a layer of tension still in the air we break apart, saying our quiet goodnights.

I lead a stunned Ayumu and Ryouta into my room. _See this is why I don't show people what my life is like, it scares and confuses them._ I settle Ayumu down on the bed, before turning on the plump figure beside my bookshelf.

"I suppose thanks are in order," I grumble gesturing to the bed. "But you could have told me?"

"Wouldn't be a surprise otherwise," He shrugs. "But Miki, your parents? The way you spoke to them." He shakes his head, half in disapproval and half in disbelief. "Mine would kick me out if I spoke to like that."

"Mine to," Ayumu adds.

"I'm not like you guys, they were never around when I was younger." I didn't realise that would sting so much to admit. _Perhaps I'm not as fine as I think I am._ "They don't get to come back into my life and tell me how to act."

"You're a braver man than I," Ryouta grins, dodging my playful jab. _Damn his Miki senses are getting stronger._

"But are you not worried they are going to throw us out of their home?" My boyfriend asks behind me.

I laugh, more cruelly than I intended. "This isn't their house, it's my grandfather's." _Well my dirty laundry is already on display._ They might as well know. I won't be accused of doing my 'Miki thing'.

"He pays for everything, Yamaku, this place, the housekeeper, everything."

"Oh," both boys seem a little lost for words.

"Look, despite everything things are actually better than they have been in a long time," I say, trying to lighten the mood.

With the one sided conversation dwindling to a close I wish Ryouta a goodnight, closing my door behind him and slip into my pyjamas. Climbing into bed to snuggle up against the bare chest of my unexpected visitor.

"I'm sorry I've caused you such distress," Ayumu mumbles into my hair.

"You've not, I'm happy your here," I whisper, moving up to find his lips. "Did your mum really not have a problem with you being here?" I ask.

"I admit we have quite clear yet different views on the subject, I think in time she will come to understand the error of her judgments."

I can't help but giggle. "I have no idea what you just said."

"Oh," he laughs softly, wrapping his arms around me. "She's not your biggest fan, but that's okay, because I am."

"What did I do?" I ask incredulously.

"You stole her son away for your sultry pleasures."

Yawning I snuggle my back against him, pulling his arms around me. "Guilty," I mumble.

— — —

"_Want a ride?"_

_A dozen eyes turn towards me, as Tatsuo standing coolly in a leather coat picks me out of the crowd. Blushing I stumble forward._

_"Me?" I ask, reaching him._

_"Who else?" He rolls his eyes, drawing a laugh from the crowd that he plays like a conductor. "Get in." I feel jealous eyes on my back as I climb up into the truck, turning to grin at the people around us before I take my seat._

_"Where are we going?" I ask excitedly, clipping in my seat belt._

_Saying nothing he pulls out onto the road with a screech of tyres. I grab hold of the door handle startled by the sudden movement. "H..hey where are we going?"_

_Nothing, his eyes are fixed on the road. We take a left bursting out of city streets onto a wide open suspension bridge, only sky is visible beyond the railings on either side of the span. The truck lurches forward as it starts to accelerate._

_"I don't like this, slow down, please!" The panic is audible in my voice._

_Disregarding me completely Tatsuo steers the truck through a set of construction barriers. Ahead I can see the bridge comes to a sudden end. We are going to drive straight off the edge!_

_"Tatsuo the bridge!" I panic, grabbing his arm. It's solid as steel. "Stop! Stop! No!"_

_The world goes completely silent as we drive into thin air. I cross my arms in front of my face as the cold dead water speeds towards us, a long shrill scream the last thing I hear before my world goes black._

"Miki? Miki? Wake up!" Someone is shaking my shoulders in panic as I emerge from the blackness. I try and push off whoever is shaking me. _Where am I? Where's Tatsuo?  
_  
"W…wha-" it feels like someone is holding a blow torch to my fingers, I try and move them but they don't respond. _I could stop the pain, if I could just move my fingers away._ Why am I not wet? we just fell into the water didn't we?

"Miki!" Finally snapping to my senses, I realise I'm in my room and that my boyfriend is shaking me awake. Normally I don't feel so confused after dreams, must be something about being at home.

"I'm sorry," I stammer, pushing my stump into my stomach. "It was just a dream, just a stupid dream."

_I can only imagine what he thinks about me now._

"You were shouting?" he says softly, settling down next to me.

"Was I?" I wince, distracted by the pain of my little finger bending back on itself. Wiggling free of his arms I slide out of bed, pacing up and down quickly. I've not told him about the phantom pains and now is not the time. Ayumu sit's up in bed, his arms wrapped around his legs.

"Sorry, it's not you," I sigh, digging through my bag for my running clothes. "I just get a little shaken after dreams, I just need a run."

"How about a walk?" He asks.

"I dunno."

"A brisk walk?" He suggests swinging his legs over the edge of the bed.

I guess there's no hiding from him now, at least I didn't scream. Though I did shout apparently. _Please don't say I shouted another boys name in my sleep._

Hastily passing him his discarded clothes I start to dress in the darkness, the process hindered slightly by aftershocks of pain in my ghost limb. _Well I guess he did want to see me in these leggings._ Exhaling softly I straighten his T-shirt. Ayumu's hand finds mine and together we sneak past Ryouta. Mercifully the table is surrounded by empty chairs tonight.

Stepping out under a deep blue sky tinted with purple, I smile. This is my favourite time to run, enough light to see by and the streets are still deserted. I would never get up this early on purpose, running at school is normally an evening activity, done just before sunset. _But I've not had much choice when I wake up of late._

"Thank you," I say softly once we are out of ear shot of the house.

I let my feet guide me, picking a shadowy landmark and aiming for it, with Ayumu softly griping my arm.

"What for?"

"Staying with me." I say softly.

A distinct frown crosses his face. _I know what he's going to say before he says it._

"I won't always be here," he mumbles.

Our path leads us along streets flanked with quaint traditional houses, this part of the city is old, but somehow keeps its charm. _I'd Like to see those new office blocks looking this nice in 50 years._ The only inhabitant still awake at this hour is a rather large cat, who glares at us from atop his bin lid throne.

"What if we didn't have to end?" I ask tentatively. "I mean, we both have phones and the internet." _I don't really know how to use it but I'm sure I can learn._ Stopping in the middle of the street, he pulls me closer his fingers finding my face.

_He's either going to kiss me or dump me._

"People don't realise how important touch is, I do. It's the sense that connects me to the world." he gestures around him. "I only get to share it with people who care about me, and who I care about." He looks straight at me, it feels like for a moment he's really looking at me.

"Without touch you are just a voice and a smell, but with it." He brushes his thumb over my lips, leaving behind a tingling warmth. "With it, I can see how beautiful you are, feel you smile or blush, this is how I want to be with you."

He trails his chin along his thumb bumping his lips into mine with a soft kiss.

"This is the only way I can be with you."

He makes no apologies, pulling away. _I knew this was a time limited offer when I signed up_. But now I've seen what I'm going to lose I can't stand it. Better to end it now. Before his roots wrap around my heart completely.

_But I can't._

"Then," I rest my forehead against his. "We have no choice but to make the most of time we have left." _I step back onto the road, our destination both far away and clearly defined. I fear what's waiting for me at my journeys end._ No more words are needed as our lips meet.

Together we walk into the blossoming sunrise.


	15. Hyakumonogatari Kaidankai

It's late October and the nights have shorted plunging the green landscape around Yamaku into darkness. Good for stargazing, not so much for running. _I will say it again, we need floodlights._

For lack of anything better to do I eye up the English homework that I abandoned last night; hoping the words might have morphed in to something I might be able to understand. _I hate English._

Outside the wind starts to pick up, pattering rain against the glass of my window. _That's just wonderful._ Giving up on the pointless homework I grab my phone, flicking it open to check the text message screen.

[No New Messages]

_Blah._ Ayumu is taking part in a piano exam or something. He goes strangely quiet when I try and talk to him about his music, not even letting me hear him play. I thought it might have been some kind of revenge for me not inviting him to the track meet? _Who knows, that boy has his head in the clouds most of the time._ If he has a complex about his piano playing, that's fine I guess. _I have one about my stump._

Ryouta and Ikuno are on a date tonight, though where they would go in this weather I have no idea. _I guess the cinema is a safe bet for those two._ Honestly could this evening get any worse?

With a flash of lightning, like a deity taking a photograph, the lights flicker and die, plunging me into darkness.

"Fucking perfect," I mutter, as thunder rumbles through the dormitories.

— — —

Opening my door I have to shield my eyes against the beam of a torch. "Gah!"

"Oh sorry!" The light vanishes, leaving behind a dark spot in the middle of my vision, through which I can just make out my blue haired classroom neighbour. _Suzu?_ That sounds right.

"What's going on?" She asks, yawning slightly, apparently dressed for bed in T-shirt and sleep shorts, her leg brace has been taken off, leaving only it's imprint in her skin. _She sleeps all day, how can she possibly be tired at night?_

"Power cut I guess?" I say, peering down the dark corridor as doors start to open.

"Don't they have a generator," a disgruntled voice asks from the darkness. Sounds like Molly, another of my classmates.

"Nope," says a male voice. "They only have that for the medical centre."

At his words unseen girls in the corridor burst into giggles. There's nothing wrong with having a boy in the girls dormitories before curfew, but having one in your room is bound to draw the attention of those that like to gossip. _Which to my understanding is everyone but me and Ikuno._

"Ryouta?" I ask, following his voice. _So they opted to stay in bed instead of facing the rain._

"Good evening Miki, lovely weather for it."

He stands next to Ikuno, who by the light of Suzu's torch glows a delicate shade of red, her face in her hands.

"What's wrong with her?" Ryouta asks, alarmed.

"I think she might quite literally be dying form embarrassment, nice work smart arse."

He looks between us, confused. _Wait for it._ Suddenly he seems to become aware of the potential rumours he's just created. Cringing he looks as mortified as his girlfriend. _Bless._

"Relax it's not a big deal," raising my voice slightly I continue. "Did anyone on this floor not know about these two?"

"Nope."

"I knew"

"I live next door to them I know so much that I feel like I'm having an affair with him."

The darkness bursts into laughter. My friends still look embarrassed, but their colour starts to return to normal. _They are so cute together sometimes._

"So how did you know about the generators?" I ask, trying to change the subject.

"I knew lots of things about this school," Ryouta shrugs, looking around. "I know something about this place hardly anyone else does."

"Yeah?"

"Yes, sit down and I will tell you."

We form a small clump in the middle of the hall, with my back against the wall I sit between Suzu. _Barer of the only torch and hence my temporary best friend._ And Ikuno, who's watches her boyfriend with interest.

"You guys ever seen the members of the Yamaku foundation? I mean like even see portrait's of them on the walls?"

Now that he mentions it, I don't think I have, this seems to be the general consensus.

"No, thought not, they don't like people to know much about them. Do you ever wonder why Yamaku is in such a remote location? or why the medical centre is full of very expensive equipment despite having only a nurse on staff?"

Again most people seem to shake their heads. _Where is he going with this?_

"Its because since it's inception this school has been a cover for a series of top secret and, if known about controversial medical experiments."

There is laughter, but it dies away quickly as the torch illuminates his serious face from below, making his normally rounded features sharp and angular.

"I laughed too at first, that was until I found out about Yuri Yurei."

Ikuno sits up a little next to me, even Suzu whose head was drooping slowly towards my arm looks alert, in fact everyone seems to be listening now. _I might be wrong, but I think Ryouta is enjoying a corridor of girls in their bedclothes hanging of his every word._

"Yuri was a first year when she came to Yamaku, having lost her sight in a horrible accident at her father's chemical factory the year before. Now all of us know what it's like to hate our conditions sometimes." There are nods and small sounds of agreement. "Yuri despised her blindness, hated it with all her being. She was suffering and it was evident to every student and teacher who met her."

He pauses, the only sound the rain pounding against the window at the end of the hall.

"Of course the school tried to help, they sent her to the therapist, but it was useless, there was just no consoling her. Until one day Yuri arrived in lessons a bright smile on her face and her eyes open and alert, no one could work out what had happened, but Yuri could see again."

The mood seems to have changed, from giggles and laughter we are all deathly silent.

"All she would say whenever anyone even teachers asked is that the school had helped her,"

Ryouta continues. "She seemed happy and this miracle was a reason for a jubilant feeling for most, however this wasn't to last. People started to notice she was becoming more withdrawn, she refused to look people in the eye, refused even to eat lunch with her classmates. This behaviour came to a head when in the middle of class she started begging her music teacher never to drive in the rain again."

"The teacher laughed her off, as did the rest of the class, everyone had simply assumed she had gone mad." Pausing for dramatic effect he continues in a low voice.

"The very next day the music teacher was killed while driving in very heavy rain."

My hand starts to tingle softly, a sure warning sign of the phantoms interest.

"Of course after that people started to talk, how had she known? For her part Yuri retreated to her room and would only talk to the school therapist and what she told him was very strange, because you see whenever Yuri Yurei looked into somebody's eyes she would see the manner of their death."

Perfectly timed a roar of thunder rebates around us, several girls scream, including the two on each side of me. I manage to keep my cool, but this is definitely getting wired.

"That's made up, it can't happen!" snorts Misaki, an artistic girl from my class.

"No? Consider this, during the second world war the United States, Soviet Union and even Japan studied the hidden powers of the mind, like ESP and telekinesis, it's claimed they found nothing. But the original files have never been released to the public and no one has ever been willing to talk."

_I do remember hearing about some creepy experiments doing the war, but it can't be real. Can it?_

"It's a well known fact we use only ten percent of our brains. When they did whatever they did to get Yuri to see again they went too far, they activated part of her brain that we all have, but can't use."

"So how come I've never heard of her?" Another girl pipes up from the shadows.

"Because of what happened next," Ryouta says darkly.

"She became a recluse, not leaving her room. Even when staff tried dragging her to class she would shut her eyes and scream until they left her alone, this went on for weeks. Until one wet and windy night, very much like tonight. Dressed only in her white nightdress she climbed to the roof, and jumped to her death."

The only sound for a moment is the howling wind.

"They never found a note, in fact all they found in her room was a broken mirror."

"W…which room was it?" Ikuno asks beside me, the fear in her voice a little startling.

"I've never been able to find out, it's one on this floor though," he looks around at his captivated audience. "You see realising the catastrophe her death would be for the school and their reputations the foundation erased all traces of Yuri Yurei, it's as if she never existed. I hear they gave her parents a large settlement not to talk."

There's a sharp intake of breath as another flash of lighting temporally throws our scared faces into sharp relief.

"Strangely though the story of Yuri Yurei does not end there, because you see even after her death she refuses to leave this school. Something they did here binds her to this place, sometimes on nights like this you will wake up to a gentle shuffling. Now heed my advice for you have a choice, you can either close your eyes tight, she's not a evil spirit, simply lost, she will leave you alone."

"Or?" I ask, surprised at the shaking in my own voice.

"You can look into her eyes, be warned though, because her reaction will tell you something about your future you might not want to know."

_Well I'm never sleeping again._

"Well goodnight girls, it's getting close to curfew." Ryouta says cheerfully, getting to his feet.

"Wait!" Molly gasps, "Was that all true?"

He smiles simply, tapping the side of his nose with a finger before turning and walking down the corridor. _He is an artist, even I almost believed him._ Apparently I'm in the minority though, my hall mates gather in small groups, afraid to be alone. _Babies._

Ikuno says nothing, she looks very shaken. _She wasn't in on this?_ I don't know if I should be impressed or annoyed at Ryouta. I wonder how long he's been sitting on that story.

"Emergency sleepover?" I ask her softly.

"Yes please," she mummers. "Let me grab my night things."

"Err," I pause, "Do you have something other than that white nightdress?"

_Outside the window wind howls and the rain pours, just as It did all those years ago. _


	16. You Were There for Summer Dreaming

Winter time has always made me sad. The life that was once so rich and full in spring has slowly died through autumn and now only the grim husk's of trees remain. I hate having to wear big puffy coats that rustle with every step, like a lacklustre rattlesnake.

"Ouch," I wince, taking a misstep onto my bad ankle. _I hate winter._ As it turns out the track gets icy in the mornings, and that in turn leads to me nearly dying of hypothermia in a cold and uncaring world. _Ok a little dramatic. But still, the medical complex is a long way when you are limping. _

"Did I not foresee the dangers inherit in running in these inclement conditions?" Ayumu asks as I lead him to class, using him as much as a crutch as he's using me as guide.

"Too many big words for this early in the morning," I mumble, wincing with every other step. _I thought he could at least have given me some sympathy when I collected him this morning. _

"What I mean is, I have been blind since birth and even I can see running on an icy track was a bad move," he laughs softly.

"You've been spending too much time with Ryouta, you and Ikuno never used to be this cheeky," I grumble.

"Well if you do insist on double dating with them."

I shrug.

"Talking about dates want to do something on Saturday? We've not done anything in ages?" I ask hopefully.

"I think I will be studying," he frowns, "Sorry."

"Do you need to study so hard?" I pout, "Exams aren't even until next year."

He laughs softly, I gently take his elbow to stop him trampling a unsuspecting first year. _Who doesn't even look grateful I saved her, how rude. _

"Yes Miki, but next year is roughly three weeks away."

"Don't remind me," I groan. The time since our kiss under the dawn sun has sailed past with reckless haste. Mutou says that time can be effected by super large things like black holes, I think having a good time with the people I love makes time move faster than any interplanetary body. _Then again I wasn't really listening._

Stepping through the front doors of the main building I'm suddenly hit by a wall of warm air. _Much better._ Ayumu seems surprised when I turn left, instead of our normal right.

"Are you kidnapping me?" He asks curiously.

"Nope," I say, pressing the button for the lift which arrives with a ding.

"Oh, you can't even make it up the stairs?" For the first time he seems to take my ankle injury seriously.

"I could," I say, selecting our floors. "But nurse says it will take three days to heal right?"

Ayumu takes a deep breath. _How rude, I listen to him when I can't even understand what he's on about._ "Right…"

"But I figure if I take the lift I can get that number down to two days, this is basically mobile bed rest."

"Miki?"

"Yes dearest," I tease.

"Never change," He laughs stepping off the lift when the computerised voice announces we have reached his floor. "Oh and Miki, Seven O'clock outside the gates on Saturday, dress warm, I have a surprise for you."

Before I can answer the doors shut in my face and I start to descend to my level. So we are going on a date after all? Hobbling along the corridor I manage to slump into my seat just as the bell rings, drawing a look somewhere between disapproval and amusement from Ikuno.

— — —

I wrap my arms around my chest shivering under a lonely street light. Pulling my woolly hat down over my ears I look around for Ayumu, I'm a little early; but this could be our last date. The thought scolds like a branding iron.

The tapping of a white cane announces my boyfriends arrival. Like me he is dressed for the cold winter night, "Miki?"

"Hi," I say, straightening his bobbled hat.

"So where are we going?" I whisper, moving closer in the cold.

"It's a surprise," he smiles, "The bus is here."

_Is it? _

The sound of the blue bus takes a little longer to register with me than my companion, but sure enough it rolls into view. Unlike the last time we took this route there is hardly anyone around. Settling myself into the seat beside the window I can just make out the lights of Yamaku as we drive away.

Nestled in the darkened bus we embrace in a comfortable silence. Before long the amber lights of the city start to flash by the windows, reminding me of home. I wonder how mum and dad are? I've come to realise how much I missed them, without even knowing it.

Back six months ago I thought I might have alienated my dad within a day of meeting him, insisting Ayumu and I shared a bed. On reflection I think he expected to find an older version of the little girl I used to be, but I've grown up now, I need my independence and I need to make my own mistakes. _I think he understands._

As for my mother. _Well._ She didn't tell me what to do one way or the other. But did hand me a box of condoms before I left, much to my embarrassment. _Thanks mum._ It's like she's been asleep for a long time, trapped in a nightmare, now she's awake she's happy to let life happen, because it's better than the alternative.

I'm even on reasonably good terms with the house keeper, who made me this hat. Though I don't think it scores many points for fashion, it is unbelievably warm. _I will admit I thought It was a stump cosy when I first saw it. _

"I think we are here," I speak softly as the bus hisses to a halt.

Stepping out into the pavement, dyed orange by the overhead streetlight, I pull my coat tighter around me. The air here is warmer, but the tall buildings act to whip up the biting wind into a frenzy. Despite the hour, shops and stalls continue to draw in a trickle of hardy customers.

By following my descriptions and Ayumu's directions we drift through the city. It's busier than I expected, shoppers throw us startled looks, before disappearing into the night. We end up joining a crowd of people amassed under a forest of dark trees, sandwiched between two busy roads. I'm a little confused.

"What's going on?" I ask, leaning close to Ayumu.

"Patience and all will be revealed." he says maddeningly.

The air around the crowd has an excited feel to it, something is going to happen soon but I have no idea what. Suddenly somewhere a loud speaker crackles into life, a cheery female voice counting down from ten. _Fireworks?_

"Three."

"Two," I look to Ayumu who is smiling knowingly.

"One."

The world around me explodes into light. Every branch on every tree is covered with glistening strings of lights, seemingly to go on forever. The crowd around me roars in delight as I cover my mouth with my hand. _It's beautiful. _

"Oh wow…" I mummer, spinning slowly around to catch every mesmerising detail, on the roads cars sound their horns appreciatively.

"Like it?" He asks, a smile clear on his face.

"I love it."

I feel like a child again as I grab his hand, almost skipping along the avenue. It's as if someone has stolen the stars from the night sky and tied them to the trees. Trying to describe the lights proves to be almost impossible, every time I start the words die in my throat. _It's impossible to translate what I'm feeling._

"I'm sorry," I apologise sadly, he should be able to experience this too.

"Sorry?" He says, a soft smile on his face. "This is somewhere so beautiful that you can't find the words to describe it, that's what I wanted you to see."

He takes my stump softly, I shiver, I've never let him touch me there before. Gently, with the care of a dancer he turns me towards him.

"This is how the world is for me every day, so beautiful that I can't find the words no matter how hard I try," he chuckles. "People feel sorry for the blind for what we can't see, I think I see something far more beautiful than they ever will, I can see you."

My lips touch his, I can't talk. _I can't even think._ I just want this moment to last forever, a perfect world under the captured starlight.

"I'm going to miss you so much," I whisper into his lips, tears streaming down my face.

"I will too, so much, but alas If I could capture a moment and hold it forever I would, for the pain of tomorrow is too unbearable to face"

His lips find mine again.

"But we have to face it," tears glisten on his face. "We have to because we are but dust motes caught in the breeze, hoping to collide for an infinitesimal moment of happiness in the void."

My kisses interrupt his speech. _So many meaningless words._ Nothing will be the same, not after he leaves. All I will have are memories, I think we both know we're not going to talk again, how can words replace this? People swarm around us, but we stay in an immobile embrace.

"Ayumu?"

"Yeah?"

_I love you._

"…Thank you for bringing me here" I recover quickly, It's not want I wanted to say. Those words would do no one any good. _The truth is selfish._

Together we walk amongst the lights, wandering through the adjacent park with displays of lights just as beautiful. _I notice other happy pairs around us, and I feel small, we are just two more broken specks lost in the void. _

—

The end comes faster than I could have ever imagined. Filing into the graduation ceremony I feel like my stomach is full of snakes, squirming and biting, their venom flowing into my hand where it burns intensely. The atmosphere is so happy; yet I feel like I'm watching Ayumu being marched to his execution.

We sing to the flag and I clap along with everyone else, though for me it's more a token mime than sound of approval. Secretly I just want this over. Trying to distract myself I glance at the parents who watch three years of their broken child's hard work, and their own considerable financial expense pay off, some of them must have doubted they would ever see this.

Name's I've never heard of are called, I watch half-heartedly as certificates are collected and bows are made. It's remarkable how similar this is to graduation at my old school, despite peoples differences the same unknown world awaits.

"Akiyama, Ayumu." His name rings through the hall, it feels like a hushed silence should fall. _Don't they understand how big a deal this is?_

A head of beautiful black hair rises above the seated crowd, his arm is taken by Miss Mizushima, my maths teacher. _I could have done that if someone asked._ She leads him impersonally to the stage.

Standing before the principal, I can see a smile on his face. Having gotten the grades he wanted he is all set to study literature at university. Briefly I entertain a fantasy that he's told there's been a mistake, that he will have to spend another year at school. _With me._

He takes his scroll and bows to the principle before turning and bowing to us all. I clap as hard as I can, smacking my leg with my good hand, hoping that somehow he can hear me above the din. Walking away from the stage his part in this performance played, he looks relived, I wish I could leave.

I listen to the speeches by one of the second year students, wishing our schoolmates good luck in their future. Followed by a third year from the track team, who talks about how we need to work hard next year. _Don't these people realise that school means nothing with no beautiful black haired dreamer?_

Their words flow through my mind, becoming instantly lost. I fidget in my seat, trying to find where Ayumu went, I want to be able to find him as soon as this is over. _I need to make the most of our last moments._ Today he will leave, and tomorrow I will be expected to carry on.

With a final round of applause the graduation ceremony comes to an end.

Practically having to fight my way through the crowd I find Ayumu on the sideline, talking to a women with raven black hair the same colour as his, his mother. Suddenly I feel a weight in my stomach, she doesn't approve of me. _What if she stops me saying good bye?_ Approaching slowly I don't know if I should interrupt.

Noticing me she turns. "So you must be Miki, the girl who's been stealing my son away from me."

"I, didn't…" _Well in the end life is stealing him from me._

Her face lights with a smile, much like her sons. "Forgive my jest, I will allow you two some space."

_She even talks like him._

As soon as she is a reasonable distance away I fall into him, hugging tightly. His hands find my soft hair, I wanted to look perfect for him, stroking it softly he smiles.

"So I guess this is it," he says gently.

"I guess." I sound like a fool, but I don't know what else to say.

"Will you do something for me?"

I nod into his chest.

"Don't let anything hold you back and find love, find it and never let it go."

_I love you._

"I… okay."

"Goodbye Miki," he pulls away and I notice tears stain his beautiful face.

"Goodbye," I mumble, barely audible. Pulling away is agonising, why can't I just grab on and refuse to let go? Before I can act on this crazy impulse he is slowly unfolding his cane. With a last nod of his head he walks out of my life.

I should have told him. _I should stop him!_ told him that goodbye wasn't enough, that no goodbye ever will be. It just seemed to happen so fast, I want to run after him, tell him that he can't leave me like this, tell him it hurts to much, more than losing my hand. I sink down against the wall, pressing my face into my knees I sob. _People will be watching, wondering, but I don't care. Let them watch._

Someone puts their hand on my shaking shoulder, I look up into the ocean blue eyes of my best friend, her bottom lip shakes, without warning she pulls me into a tight hug, holding me close on the dusty hall floor.

— — —

"I'm going to bed." I say, getting up from the sofa. Nothing on the television has been able to grab my attention since I've been home, even running has lost some of its appeal. _Nothing has been able to compare to him._

"Okay Sweet, sleep well," dad says, smiling softly at me his arm wrapped around mum. I've not told them about graduation, but I think they know.

I dress in the darkness of my room, before slipping into bed. I toss and turn trying to find a comfortable position, I've not been sleeping well. My dreams have been twisting and warping inside my head, playing out in new and disturbing patterns. The phantom never one to be left out feeds on my anger and sadness like a leech, attacking my non-existent hand with a new found malice.

To top it all off dad is becoming frailer with each day, bone thin and gaunt he seems to spend all of his time either asleep or absently staring at the television. Infuriatingly he insists he's fine, refusing to go to a doctor or even talk about how he's feeling. _I don't want him to go, I've only just got him back._

For the first time in a long time I reach under my bed, pulling out a well hidden bottle of whisky. _I promised I would never do this again._ Gripping the cold bottle between my knees I pull out the stopper, the amber liquid burns through my throat, both a punishment and a relief. _Just one sip, one sip to help me forget and sleep. _

The silver moon reflecting off a half empty bottle is the last thing I can remember before sleep takes me.

…

"_Look it's simple, I need to do some business." Tatsuo sounds irritated as he pulls the truck up against the curb. "You sit here, make sure no one interferes with the truck, I mean you can drive right?"_

"_Sure, it's not a problem." I don't want him to think I'm some kid, even though I've never driven a car in my life. We swap seats. It's not like I'm really going to have to drive it though, he would never let me, probably it's some stupid parking rule. Like you have to be sat in the driver's seat otherwise you get a ticket. _

_I roll down the window when he taps on the glass. _

"_Just stay here and wait okay?" _

_Before I can answer he turns, walking away up the street. He seems a lot colder than he was just a few minutes ago, have I done something wrong?_

_I rest my chin on the wheel, it vibrates softly with the running engine, he's been a long time. Or at least it feels like he's been a long time. Suddenly the passenger door flies open as Tatsuo jumps inside, a terrorised look on his face._

"_Go! Go!" He shouts, turning in his seat to stare out of the back window. _

"_What?" I ask, shocked. Copying his motion I can see a group of men running towards us, one of them wilds a baseball bat. I feel the truck jerk as Tatsuo pushes the leave to put it into drive. _

"_Go!" He shouts, real fear in his voice. _

_Panicking I step on the pedal. The truck roars flying forward, my eyes bulge as I realise I have no control, steering wildly the tyres start to squeal. Oh god how do I make it slow down?_

"_What are you doing!" He grabs my arm trying to control. "Brake! Brake." _

_It's too late, with a sound like a cannon we hit a parked car. There is a long moment of eerie silence, as almost in slow motion I feel my body become weightless._

_Then we hit the ground hard, before being thrown back into the air, I can't tell which way is up as I'm thrown around inside the spinning truck. The last thing I see is solid black pavement rushing up to meet my outstretched hand. _

_Blackness envelops me._


	17. The Truth Will Set You Free

"Another set of stairs is inhumane," Ryota pants.

"How can you be out of breath already?" I ask incredulously.

"I don't… do… mornings!" he exclaims taking the final step onto the top floor. Our third year of school is barely a month old, yet I've found myself settling into an almost robotic routine. Get up, shower, walk to class, daydream through lessons. _Do I have anything else in my life? _Oh yeah, four afternoon runs, two track club meetings and one therapy session.

Thinking of therapy appointments I have one to look forward to this evening, Great. _Just great_.

"You could come running with me?" I ask, frowning at his sweaty brow. Ikuno giggles beside me, perhaps a little cruelly.

"I don't want to make you look bad Miki, it's a kindness." He laughs, pulling Ikuno into a disgustingly public display of affection. I guess most people would throw him dirty looks for that, then again people stare at us anyway, might as well be because he's getting some. Leaving them to it I continue into the classroom.

Surprisingly the only person to beat me is the timid purple haired girl who sits at the back of the class. _Hanako I think her name is? _She has her face buried in a book, I've never really spoken to her. _She is intriguing though, why is she so afraid?_

Students slowly file in, taking their places, the seating plan identical to our second year classroom the floor below. There's a thud from my neighbour as her blue haired head hits the desk, making me wince. I watch with passing interest as she blinks confusedly waking up again after only a few seconds, she catches my eye and I give her a comforting smile, before losing her to another round of sleep. _I have no idea what her condition is, I could ask I guess, but I don't really know her._

Mutou is late as usual, it's odd for a teacher to be tardier than his students. I do often wonder if in his dreamlike state he simply floats from classroom to classroom, looking for one without a teacher. Eventually he arrives complete with messy hair, bloodshot eyes and a new student? _Well there goes my dibs on the empty desk by the window._

_So I wonder whats wrong with him._

No, no that is a bad way to think. Our new classmate is stood in front of us, looking like a noose is about to be tied around his neck. _He walked in, so no leg problems._

Nervously he glances around the room. _So he's not blind. _His eyes flicker as he spots my arm and Molly's legs, or lack thereof. _So first time at the cripple zoo, interesting. _Finally his wandering gaze settles on Misha's violently pink hair, a new feature for a new school year, I have no idea what possessed her to dye it.

"Class, we have a new student joining us today," Mutou announces snapping out of his morning daze. _I wonder what it's like to wake up, only to discover your teaching high school science._

"This is Hisao Nakai," he says half-heartedly, looking at the subject of his introduction as if trying to find some fascinating fact to mention. Giving up he simply hands him a lump of chalk to write his name on the blackboard.

_Hisao huh? _I don't bother to clap with everyone else, he already looks scared half to death, a loud leg slap might finish him off. With an irritating scrape he pulls out his chair and sits down, only to be assaulted almost instantly by everyone's favourite class rep. _I guess if you get thrown into a shark tank the bull shark will be the first for a bite, can you even get bull shark?_

"What are big male sharks called?" I ask Ikuno quietly as Mutou starts to drone on about something.

"I have no idea? Bruce?" Ikuno shrugs, looking confused. "Miki," she pauses, I get the feeling I'm not going to like what she says next.

"Yeah?" I ask, my eyes darting to the blackboard to make sure we're safe to talk.

"If we pair up to work, will you help? Because otherwise I'm going to find someone else." Her cheeks are a little flushed, I instantly feel bad. I've been relying almost completely on Ikuno for keeping my schoolwork up, she understood to start with, but I guess there's only so much she can take.

"Yeah," I nod quickly. "Yeah, I'm sorry."

With a smile Ikuno gestures to the front, we should be listening.

— — —

As it turns out we do have group work, true to my word I do my best to help. I don't know if I got anything right, but Ikuno seems happy enough. Eating lunch with her and Ryouta my eyes are drawn to my new classmate, who has been taken hostage by two thirds of the student council, and doesn't look overly happy about it.

Why is he so interesting? I don't think I've paid this much attention since, well since last year. Somehow he's come along, a mystery wrapped in a school uniform, and woken me from my robotic slumber. _I have no idea how long it will last, but I like the distraction._

"Something fatal, tragically fatal," Ryouta says with a mouth full of food, following my gaze.

"Ryouta!" Ikuno gasps, looking up from her finger pricking routine.

"You think?" I ask, "Why would you come to school if you were going to die?"

"Okay, how about something degenerative, like he's going to gradually forget how to walk?"

"Could be," I shrug. "Would you come to cripple school before you're crippled though?"

"Miki!" Ikuno rounds on me now. "Honestly you two are so mean. He's not a cripple and neither are you. I happen to think he's kinda cute."

"You do?" Ryouta sputters, his cheeks reddening.

"I never said he wasn't… okay looking." I turn my attention back to Hisao Nakai, could he be about to keel over at any moment. I guess there's a whole memorial garden as testament that those kinds of people do come here. _Poor kid, dying and now stuck with Shizune and Misha. _

"You still shouldn't make light of his condition, or anybody's condition for that matter." Ikuno says, packing away her supplies.

"You're right, I'm sorry." I look down at my half eaten lunch suddenly very hungry. "I'm just interested is all."

—

One thing I've learned since coming to Yamaku is that disabled kids are just as keen to get out of class as their counterparts in the real world, so when the bell rings there is a sudden screeching of chairs being forced across wooden floors. I stand up slowly, waiting to see what Hisao will do, unfortunately he is still in the grasp of the diabolic duo.

"Ikuno, I need your help," I say quickly, turning to her.

"Can't you at least try the homework first? I have to do it too, you know."

"Its not that!" I say urgently. _They look like they are about to start dragging him away with them._

"I need your help rescuing the new boy."

She raises her eyebrows at me. "Rescue him?"

"Yes." _How is this a difficult concept. _"You need to distract the student council, somehow."

"Why me?" she asks, looking over to where Misha and Shizune are signing furiously. _I bet they are discussing how to hide the body._

"Because you're my best friend, and you're on the council, and I will owe you a favour."

The moment's silence while she makes her mind up is agonising. I've not felt this desperation for something to happen since before Ayumu's graduation.

"Fine," Ikuno says resignedly. _I knew I could count on her._

"Hi Ikuchan~!" Misha voice carries across the room, causing me to wince. _I forgot she gave Ikuno that stupid nickname, whatever is wrong with Misha is far worse than missing a hand._

"Hello," Ikuno says slowly, apparently no keener on the pet name. "Shizune, I'm having problems with the budget reports for the festival, can we go over them?"

There's an uncomprehending look on the pink haired girl's face, before her hands burst into a blur of rapid sign language. _How can anyone keep up with that?_

"Ikuchan, that's not good at all!" tone and inflection are completely missing in Misha's translation, making her scolding completely surreal. "Budget reports are very important! But we were going to show Hicchan around."

_Hicchan? He has a nickname? He's been here less than a day and she's given him a nickname? What the hell?_

"I can show the new boy around if you're busy?" Like a noble and mighty knight I stride into the conversation, Misha looks so stunned she forgets to translate. A loud impatient finger snap draws her attention and gets her back on course.

"Thats a great idea~!" Misha exclaims. By the way Shizune is glaring at me I doubt that was her translation. _She likes him? Or she likes controlling people - the latter seems more likely._

"Shicchan says it's up to Hicchan, and-" Misha frowns slightly, "She says she's glad you've found time in your busy schedule to help your classmates, it's only taken you a year."

Ignoring the pair of them I turn to Hisao. _Shizune just loves to argue, according to Ikuno anyway. _Looking completely lost he's kinda cute, I smile at him, gesturing with my head to the door.

I nod a silent thank you to Ikuno, before leaving with Hisao, who follows me out of the room like a lost puppy. On closer inspection I can't see anything wrong with him, messy chestnut hair, eyes such a light shade of brown they are almost peach. _No, on the surface he is fine._

"Oh, sorry, my name is Miki Miura." I forgot to introduce myself in the excitement of saving him.

"Hisao Nakai," he says almost robotically. We make an awkward bow to each other.

"I saw you spend quite a bit of time with the council today, thought you might like a break," I say, heading down the stairs. He smiles ever so slightly, but it could have been my imagination.

"They seem welcoming," he says softly.

_Oh I bet they do._

"So what did you want to see?" I might not have thought this out too well, I have my appointment soon, wherever he wants to go I'm going to have to leave him there. _If it was any other therapist session I could cancel._

"Well, I was supposed to see the nurse after class."

_Now that's interesting._

"As it happens I was heading for the medical centre myself," I say. His eyes drift to my stump, before flying quickly back to my face. _Bless. _Together we leave the main building and head out under a light afternoon sun.

"So what do you like to do Nakai?" I pause. "Or do you prefer Hicchan."

"Hisao is fine," he says a little testily, "Reading mostly."

"Bookworm huh?" I smile, thinking about Hanako with her head constantly in a book. Perhaps I could nudge him in her direction, could be worth it just to see the look on Shizune's face if she's outclassed by someone with pathological shyness. _Have I really become this bitter, or was I always like this and Ayumu distracted me?_

"Well, I think there's a library in the main building." I say, remembering Ryouta showing me a pair of polished wooden doors an age ago.

With a nod he smiles, opening the door to the medical centre and gesturing for me to go inside. The brick corridor echoes with our footsteps, as we cover the short distance to the open door of the nurse's office, inside the room seems to be empty.

"Good afternoon Miss Miura-"

He speaks from behind us, making me jump out of my skin, Hisao laughs softly. _Damn Nurse! _With a frown I introduce Hisao to the blue haired practitioner, who smiles politely, grabbing a file from his desk.

"Oh yes, and you're here to see-"

"The hand doctor," I cut him off quickly before he can reveal too much about me.

He laughs turning his attention to Hisao, an eyebrow raised. For his part my new classmate accepts the information with no protest, though he does look a little confused by the laugh. _He's in for a treat spending time with the nurse._

"Afraid you get the boring old nurse today, Mr. Nakai, follow me."

With a long look back at me Hisao follows the nurse into his sterile office. I suddenly feel very alone, a distraction was only ever going to be a temporary solution, I guess however briefly I was trying to feel carefree again.

Resigning myself to what I imagine is going to be a very unpleasant hour I set off towards Dr. Ueda's office. I'm a little early, and just as I reach the door it opens, revealing Hanako, whose eyes instantly widen. From this range it's hard to miss just how horrific her scaring is. I can't even imagine how much getting those hurt.

"Oh, sorry," I say, trying to smile at her. _I kind of guessed she was in therapy, this just confirms it._

"I… I… I'm…" She splutters. Inside the room I hear Dr Ueda rise from his recliner.

"I'msorryIgottago!" she says all at once, rushing past me and down the corridor, her school bag swinging wildly._ What the hell? _Should I go after her? Apologise more completely, I didn't mean to scare her. In fact I've developed a bit of a soft spot for my skittish classmate.

"She will be okay Miki, just easily startled I'm afraid." Dr. Ueda, guides me into his office. I wish I could ask about her, but it would be a betrayal of trust. I would hate having the doctor share anything I told him.

— — —

We sit in silence, the only sound a ticking clock, waiting for our guest who appears to be running late. _Perhaps they've forgotten all about this, I can hope._

"You don't need to talk right now if you're not ready, remember this is an official statement, you can't change it," Dr. Ueda says not unkindly, breaking the silence.

"I know," I sigh, "But putting it off won't change anything. I'm ready."

There's a knock on the door just as I finish my sentence. Getting up quickly the doctor hurries to answer it. He seems as nervous as I am, failing completely at his normal unreadable act. A tall official looking man is led into the room, all perfect black hair and neat pinstriped suit. He's introduced, but I don't catch his name, nor do I particularly care what it is. A police badge shines on his suited chest. The time has come for my official witness statement.

There is some light and pointless small talk. I feel like screaming at them to carry on with it, to stop dragging things out. I was ready to talk on my first day back at Yamaku, as I told the good doctor. But apparently it takes this long to set up a meeting, Tatsuo's death clearly not a priority case.

"Right Miss Miura, I understand this is a difficult subject, so just go slowly and tell me everything you can remember." The detective's voice is reassuring at least. _I need to remember that as far as he knows I'm a victim not a culprit._

Slowly, my voice shaking I tell him my story. It's harder than I thought, and my voice softens to almost a whisper when I talk about Tatsuo, how I remember calling to him but getting no answer, but somehow I make it through. With a final note added to his paperwork the suited detective looks up.

"Thank you for that, if possible could you clarify a few points?"

I nod, hoping I never have to talk again. Burning horribly I push my stump into my stomach, the phantom feels angry, desperate to make it's presence known.

"Mr Tekahashi picked you out from a crowd seemingly at random, but later expressed a romantic interest in you?"

I confirm with a tiny nod.

"From there his driving seemed to become more erratic, you believed he was trying to show off or impress you? So you removed your seatbelt, planning to escape the vehicle when an opportunity presented itself."

"Thats right," I mummer.

"So just to be clear at the time of the accident, Mr Takahashi was in control the vehicle?"

"Y… yes." _Please let him believe me. _"I tried to grab the wheel to steer away from the cars, but…" Trailing off I look at my stump, still clutched to my abdomen.

"Do you remember who the first responder was after the accident? Who kicked out the windscreen for example?"

I shake my head. "I don't remember anything after hitting the parked car, I'm sorry."

"It's okay Miss Miura, you have done very well, I think we can now safely close this case."

Leaving me to sit mutely the two men make some small talk as various sheets of paperwork are compiled and signed, I end up signing my own name more than once, though what for I could not say. Eventually with everything in order and subjects for polite conversation exhausted the detective is shown to the door.

"You did very well Miki," the doctor's voice is back to its normal level tone, apparently he's as relieved as I am that this is all over. _A bit of a change from when he was talking about testifying against me the first day we met._

"I just told him what happened," I say, taking a sip of icy water, hoping it will calm the twisting snakes in my stomach. "C… can I still see you?" I ask, my voice shaking. _Despite everything I've grown to trust my therapist. His unbiased opinions and the comforting environment have become regular fixtures of my week,_

"Oh, of course you can Miki, I'm sure we can find much to talk about in your last year at Yamaku."


	18. Preparations

"Look, all I'm saying is they are totally doing it!" Ryouta laughs, stretching out on the grass, hand behind his head.

"What evidence could you possibly have?" Ikuno groans, looking up from her school work.

I watch this little debate from the comfort of my normal spot leant against the gnarled oak, the sun has made a rare appearance, and though not especially warm, the smell of fresh-cut grass and the blooming of new life is too hard to resist on this boring Friday.

"Well, they are both in the newspaper club," Ryouta says, as if this explains everything.

"So?" I say, fiddling with my bandages.

"Well it means they are artsy types, and you know those types of girls are into experimenting, plus I hear they work late nights sometimes," He laughs excitedly. "I bet that printing press has seen some things."

"Just because two girls are with each other late at night doesn't mean they are in love. Me and Miki spend nights with each other all the time," Ikuno returns to her book, confident in her argument. Ryouta on the other hand sits up, a smirk on his face.

"And you've never thought, well since we're both here we might as well?"

"Ryouta, if Ikuno and I were sleeping together do you honestly think you would get a look in?" I say with a grin.

"Fine, fine you make a good point, no one could possibly look at you once they've had me."

"Has she had you?" I ask curiously.

"No!" Ikuno yells, making us jump. _Reading between the lines, that was a yes, ha._

"Look Miki you are missing the point, those two in your class are totally batting for the other team, and I can prove it." Ryouta says triumphantly.

I raise my eyebrow at him. "Yeah?"

"You're single, right?"

_Oh I see where this is going. Shame this spot is so comfortable, or I would have hit him._

"Okay," I say, smiling.

"You'll ask one of them out?" He sounds amazed.

"Sure, if you do a little thing for me." Ikuno is sitting bolt upright now, her homework abandoned. "I've always wondered if the track captain was inclined that way. Why don't you ask him out?"

His eyes grow to the size of saucers, turning quickly to Ikuno, who is giggling into her hands.

"I'm afraid I have a girlfriend so I can't, sorry Miki."

"I d… don't mind," Ikuno can barely speak as she breaks down laughing.

Ryouta just stutters, looking between us. I think we might have broken him, this is beautiful. A bell rings somewhere in the distance recalling us from lunch, has it really been an hour?

"Shoot, I need to get these budget reports to the council room," Ikuno says, giving me a dirty look. _Heroes shouldn't resent their noble sacrifices, someone should tell her. _"Can you tell Miss Mizushima where I am?"

"Sure," I say, getting to my feet to walk back to class with Ryouta, while Ikuno dashes off in the other direction. I suppose I should feel bad, but I'm sure I will end up paying her back sooner or later. Plus at least Hisao knows that there is more to Yamaku than presidents and pink drills.

— — —

Leaving Ryouta to head down to his classroom I stride into mine. At first glance the room seems empty, but on closer inspection Hanako sits at her desk, head in a book as always. The sound of her pages turning is the only thing intruding on the gentle breeze rustling the trees outside the open windows. _I like spring._

Deciding I owe her a better apology than I was able to give last night in the medical building corridor I wander over to her, clearing my throat softly so as not to startle her. _I don't want her throwing herself out of the window in fright - I'm already responsible for one death. No, we are not thinking about that._

"H…hello?" her timid voice brings me back to earth with a bump, her book is lowered, but she still holds her hand across the scarred side of her face.

"I'm sorry for startling you last night, in the medical building." I trail off a little lamely, perhaps this wasn't the best idea after all.

"It's… It's o… okay," she says, not meeting my gaze. _It doesn't sound like it's okay, but she might just talk like this all the time._

"Do… Do you s… see Dr… Ueda as well?"

It's an interesting question. Of course she must know I do and is simply confirming out of politeness, but I haven't told anyone but Ikuno that I see the therapist, and even then I try and be as vague as possible. _I honestly feel bad taking his time with my stupid problems when Hanako is clearly in need of real help._

"I do," I say softly, as Molly clunks into the room on her prosthetic legs, throwing us a curious look. "Look, I know you won't, but could you not tell anyone about where I was last night?" I ask urgently.

She nods quickly, as more students start to file into the room. "Thanks," I whisper, rushing back to my chair, inquisitive eyes on my back.

— — —

I stand by the door, waiting for Ikuno who is having a heated discussion with Shizune or Misha. I assume it's the latter, though. Hisao sits between them, apparently not sure if it's safe to move yet. _Then again he seems to spend a lot of time with the council, some of it disturbingly by choice._

I'm snapped out of my daydreaming when I notice Ikuno waving me over. _Oh this isn't going to end well. _I consider running for it, but I would only get a hyperactive earful from Misha, via Shizune. With a resigned breath I make my way to their desk.

"I don't have time to do it, but Mikichan here will be more than happy to help," Ikuno says smoothly, throwing me a dazzling smile worthy of her boyfriend.

"Ikuchan and Mikichan! Wahahaha~!" Misha looks like she's about to burst with joy.

"Mikichan?" I glower at Ikuno, who giggles infuriatingly.

"I thought you might be jealous of my nickname," she says, feigning innocence.

Shizune slaps her hand on the desk with a sound like a gunshot. _For someone who's deaf she's very loud. _Misha, regaining at least some control of her unique style of laughter turns to her supervisor. _Carer, mistress, what's the right word?_

"Sorry! Shicchan says there are stalls that must be painted, but everyone in the student council is busy!"

_Oh I should have ran when I had the chance._

"But it will be super fun because you get to paint them with Hicchan~!" I think she might have burst one of my eardrums, was she born with no volume control? Or did she lose it in some kind of tragic accident?

"Hisao has been roped into this as well?" I say, looking at him. With a thrill I see he's looking perkier than just a moment ago. _Because he gets to work with me? _He shrugs, getting unsteadily to his feet. _I don't want a relationship with him, but it's nice to be appreciated._

"Kikichan! Hicchan is helping because he wants to do the best for his new class, you could learn from him not to be so lazy!"

I wonder if Shizune knows all her insults are said in the same tone you say happy birthday... I guess not. Throwing her a deep bow I retreat from the classroom, Hisao in silent tow, he's not so much a puppy, more like one of those old dogs that stumble after their owners half-heartedly.

Withdrawing my phone I scrawl a quick text message. "Kikichan knows where you sleep at night! Beware!"

A few moments later I get a reply from Ikuno.

[Ikuno: Sleep over tonight? Tell me about your date? 3 3 3]

I grin to myself, texting back a quick affirmation. Unlike my friends I can send a text message that contains just text. Realising I have no idea where I'm supposed to be going I turn to Hisao.

"So what are we supposed to be doing?" I ask, trying to sound sweet. _The distraction still seems to be working, lucky me._

"Painting stalls, outside the fire escape I think." he says, following me as I make a sudden direction change.

"What fun, how come you're doing this, though?" I say, frowning a little at his deadpan tone.

Again he shrugs apathetically. "Didn't have anything better to do, other than go back to my room and read."

I push open the fire escape door that has been left wedged ajar. So fire safety is not high up on the student council priority list. That figures. A sudden image of Shizune commanding Misha into a burning room to save some unimportant paperwork flashes across my mind.

As I step outside, I am temporarily blinded by the sun's glare, but after I've blinked a few times, I get my first look at the scale of the problem. Three wooden stalls stand built but unpainted, each has a pot of what I hope is the desired colour and a brush. _Well there goes my afternoon._

"Take your pick I guess," I say forlornly. _I will give Ikuno this, her vengeance is swift and without mercy._

In relative silence we uncap the paint pots and start the laborious task. _At least this is somewhat relaxing. _I've always liked seemingly repetitive tasks like painting, laundry or cleaning for taking my mind off things.

Before long we have finished a stall each and are about to get to work on the third, Hisao has rolled up his sleeves, a bead of perspiration on his reddened face. _It's not that hot is it? _In fact, with the sun on its slow descent below the horizon and the birds mourning the end of the day in their song, the air has cooled significantly.

"You okay?" I ask, the first words spoken in well over two hours, while I struggle with a paint pot. _Stupid hand, stupid people leaving stupid paint pots to get stupidly sealed with paint, gah!_

"You need a hand?" he asks.

"Why do you have a spare?" I reply distractedly, not looking up, I refuse to be beaten by honeybee yellow.

There's an unnaturally long silence, I glance around quickly to make sure he's not evaporated, or melted or something. He's looking at me, his mouth slightly open and eyes wide. _Oh, I've been there before, it's kinda cute really._

"It's okay, I know what you meant." I smile, trying to reassure him.

"I'm sorry, really sorry," he says mournfully, looking unsure what to do with himself.

"I said don't worry." I frown. _Come on distraction, you were doing so well!_

"An extra hand would be helpful with this though," I say, giving up.

"Oh, sure," he says, brightening up a little. With three hands we manage to pry the lid off the can, and set about painting opposite ends of the wooden facade. I've missed my afternoon run by the looks of it, unless I go in my school uniform. _Tempting, but the short skirt puts me off, you never know who's watching._

"So, you a country kid?" I ask. Might as well make conversation.

"No, I grew up in the city." Looking up at the sky he seems to contemplate something, before continuing. "It's hard to sleep here, it's too quiet."

"I know what you mean," I say nodding. "I used to be able to hear the night trains from my window. It felt really strange not hearing them here, but you get used to it."

"I don't know if I'm ever going to fit in here," he admits, focussing on his brush strokes.

"You'll adapt, just treat people like they're people, can't go wrong there."

With a nod he continues painting, I don't know how to describe him. It's like he's lost something, something important that he's given up trying to find. I can't even truly say what's wrong with him, the diagnoses game has rather lost its appeal since he was a nameless face in a classroom, now he means something. _Can I even help him? I can barely help myself._

"Are you going to the festival?" I ask, trying to sound innocent. _I'm not asking him on a date, but people read too much into things._

"I might," he says, followed by another infuriating shrug. "Might just catch up with some reading."

"You can read anytime," I tease. _Cripple petting zoo comes but once a year._

"Well, I don't have anyone to go with, I could ask Shizune and Misha I guess."

"Or you could go with me?" I say, looking right at him. _I have no clue why I just did that, but letting him go with the council feels like a grave mistake._

"Oh, yeah sure," he says, for a moment a smile flickers across his face. Well, that's an improvement at least. With our plans mostly settled we finish painting the stall in silence, the light beginning to die as we finish the last brush stroke. _At least this should keep Shizune off my back._

After retrieving our schoolbags, his new and stiff, mine old and worn, we head to the dorms. The street lights that illuminate the paths around Yamaku flicker to life, throwing orange light in wide interspersed circles along our route. Outside his building we bid each other goodnight formally, I watch him retreat inside, he looks tired, but somehow more alive than I've seen him.

With a resigned sigh I head for my own room. Ikuno will be asking questions into the small hours, determined to pull me out of my Ayumu spiral and set my sights on Hisao, would that be such a bad thing? _No one will compare to Ayumu, and I'm betraying him to even think that. _

_Not that I even deserve love after what I've done. _For the last twenty or so hours I've tried very hard not to think too much about my lie. I had to tell it, I can't go to prison.

The fact remains though that I'm responsible for taking a life, It's not something I'm going to be able to come to terms with, I just have to live as this tainted mess; I should be alone.

Climbing the stairs to my room I try to think about something, anything else. I don't feel guilty - or at least I don't feel as guilty as I should. _I killed somebody for fuck sake. _Justifying my actions to myself has become like a force field, shielding me from my crime, but I am just fooling myself. _The time will come when I have to take responsibility. _


	19. The Tranquility of Repetition

"It's not a date," I protest as Ikuno giggles in the bus seat beside me. _I cannot believe I agreed to this._

"He's a boy, you're a girl, it's a date." Ikuno shrugs, playing idly with her phone.

I think this is the first time I've been to the city with her - or that I've been back to the city at all since that magical night under the captured stars in December. Shopping trips are not really my thing, unless I know I need something, but Ikuno likes them.

"So you don't like him?" she asks, feigning innocence.

"I didn't say that." I turn my attention back to the window, watching the overcast sky drift past, hopefully it will brighten up for the festival tomorrow. _Though if it rains perhaps I can stay in bed. _Luckily in return payment for the terrible shifts I got last year Ikuno has gotten me a single morning slot. I knew having a mole on the student council would come in handy.

"Well honestly, I think he's good for you, you've been in a better mood these last three days than I can remember." She frowns a little, her large blue eyes shimmering slightly in the pale light. _I didn't mean to make her worry._

The fact remains though that she's right. With Hisao around to distract me I've been thinking about Ayumu less. He's not forgotten but more faded.

My dreams, though still troubling, have subsided slightly. Whereas before I would dream a fragment of my memory, now it seems like they are all thrown together, played back inside my head in a seemingly random order. Images and experiences are thrown at me so fast I can barely keep up, until eventually I find myself paralysed inside a decimated truck cab.

"He won't replace Ayumu," I say sternly.

"I never said he would," Ikuno frowns. "But you shouldn't give up on boys at eighteen, plus I kind of miss double dating with you."

I laugh. Perhaps she's right. Ayumu has for all intents and purposes vanished from my life. I had hoped he would at least find time to phone me, even a handwritten letter would have done. _Hell, I could have found someone to read braille if necessary._

"So, what are you shopping for again?" I ask, changing the subject.

"We," she corrects, "are shopping for kimonos for tomorrow, plus anything else that looks fun!"

Ikuno's calm, almost shy attitude at school is replaced completely when shopping. It's almost like a power trip. Although nothing has been spoken aloud, it's quite clear to all of us that Ikuno's family have the funds for almost anything they want. When Ikuno goes shopping, she does so knowing no price is ever to high.

"Well, I guess if we find something that looks nice." I grin, luckily I can fill out most garments, though sometimes my lanky frame and the tone I've built up through running pose a challenge. _If Ikuno just let me live in jeans and baggy t-shirts there wouldn't be a problem._

—

"Ikuno, I won't be able to afford anything around here," I say, frowning at the dazzling shop fronts. My best friend has dragged me into an unfamiliar part of the city. English words like 'New York' and 'London" under signs denote the price of the clothing within. I feel completely out of place, my bandaged stump and modest dress drawing the eyes of people who have money, and want other people to know about it.

"Oh, don't worry about that! It's a birthday present." Ikuno giggles, her bright eyes gleaming as she surveys the luxury stores for a promising target.

"Firstly, it's not my birthday and secondly you already got me a birthday present, we went out for lunch remember?" I don't know if I'm entirely comfortable with someone else spending money on me, I suppose it's what my grandfather has been doing for the last ten years, but that's different. _He's a parent, Ikuno is a friend._

"Did I?" she shrugs, choosing a white-fronted boutique and making for it with a speed that seems unnatural for her. "Well, you can never have enough birthday presents."

I protest but entering the store takes my breath away. Inside it's more like a hotel than a clothes store, modern metal and glass-partitioned walls give way to smooth beach panelling. The clothing in the shop is laid delicately on shelves, or hung from flowing metal rails. Ikuno's eyes light up in delight, but however much I might like the decor, the whole place seems a bit pretentious.

"Welcome, may I help you find what you're looking for today?" A small woman, dressed in a radiant tight red dress approaches us, bowing low. Her hair and make-up are pristine - she looks better in her work clothes than most people do in their wedding attire.

"Kimonos please," Ikuno says with a relaxed air, her confidence is almost startling, I feel like I should be apologising to this neatly dressed women for intruding on her shop.

With a low bow we are led to the back of the store, Ikuno with her head held high. The shop is stretching back farther than I expect, and we are brought to an hexagonal room. Mirrors alternate with racks displaying immaculate Kimonos in every style imaginable. Reflected in four mirrors simultaneously I catch the stunned look on my face.

_Can't hurt to try some things on can it?_

The next hour is spent trying on clothes, giggling and admiring ourselves in the many mirrors, much to our host's delight. She moves around the racks with the grace of a ballroom dancer, eyeing us up and down before selecting a garment. Standing side by side in front of the mirror Ikuno and I admire ourselves. She's chosen a rose pink fabric with delicate vines the colour of pearls spiral around her body, it looks stunning.

"What do you think?" Ikuno asks, a dreamy look on her face.

"I love it." I grin, admiring my own Kimono, a soft white fabric interspersed with purple Lillies the colour of my hair. _This is the most beautiful thing I've ever worn. _However no matter how like a princess this dress makes me feel, I can't see a price tag. If I have to ask I can't afford. _But, I can just spend a little more time in it._

"We'll take them." Ikuno says confidently, pulling her purse out of her handbag.

"Ikuno no," I interject, stepping between the store assistant and my best friend, who is about to spend a small fortune on me. With a giggle Ikuno withdraws a credit card, even this simple piece of plastic looks pricey, inlaid with golden lettering.

"It's a birthday present Miki. It's very rude to refuse presents!" Her grin is devilish.

I squirm in front of her. "But I will never be able to pay you back." my voice whines slightly; defeated. _I really do love this Kimono more than I can say, it suits me perfectly._

"Fine, you pay for lunch, then we're even, agreed?"

Before I can say anything she sidesteps me, swaying slightly, to hand over her card. Seemingly happy to be making a sale today the women in red rushes off. She must get paid through commission. Thanking Ikuno repeatedly I start to very carefully slide off the beautiful fabric, Ikuno does the same, unsteady on her feet.

"Do you need to, you know, check yourself?" I ask softly, it's a touchy subject, but I don't want her passing out and smashing one of these mirrors. For a moment a flash of anger touches Ikuno's face, before she turns away, nodding ever so slightly.

"I just need something to eat. It will be okay to finish up here."

I breathe a sigh of relief, I really didn't want to fall out with her again.

"Well then, I better find the best cake in the city for lunch."

— — —

Thirty minutes later we sit at a well worn table, dappled in soft sunlight cast by a swaying tree, bursting with new spring life. After stumbling down several side streets, with Ikuno looking paler with each passing moment I came across this coffee shop. The prices are reasonable, and the cake is good, the best of both worlds.

"This is really good," Ikuno says, nodding to her spoonful of bright pink cake.

"Ummm hmmm." I agree, my mouth full.

My newly purchased Kimono sits boxed and bagged at my ankle, where I keep an attentive watch on it. Ikuno, though happy with her Kimono, is much laxer, leaning back in her seat.

"So what have you and Ryouta got planed for tomorrow?" I ask between mouthfuls.

"Well, my parents are coming to the festival," she says, her eyes fixed on her plate.

"Cool, so you and Ryouta are spending time with them?"

She chews slowly, not meeting my eye. _Did she not hear me?_

"I've not told them," she admits guiltily.

_What?_

"…Why?" I stammer, stunned.

"I never really got around to it."

"You've been going out for close to a year!" I protest, "How could you have forgotten to mention it."

"I know, don't remind me," she groans, hiding her face between her folded arms, leaning on the table.

"What does Ryouta think of this?"

Her ears redden, but she remains silence.

"Ikuno," I pause, "Ryouta does know you've not told your parents about him, right?"

"Worse," she mutters, her voice muffled. "He doesn't even know they are coming to the festival."

"…Shit." I say, half impressed with how much she's managed to screw up.

"So, just to be clear, Ryouta is expecting to spend the day with you tomorrow. But in reality he's being stood up for your parents, who don't know you are going out with him." Saying it aloud helps clarify the details in my own head. I thought I had boy troubles, but this is something else.

"What am I going to do?" She moans.

"Well, first you should be honest with Ryouta, as soon as we get back to school if not sooner."

A groan indicates she's not a fan of this idea, but she nods anyway. _Poor Ryouta._

"Then you tell your mum and dad about your boyfriend." It's the best advice I can give, but I don't think it will be enough, I can't see a way out of this without major fallout. _I just hope their relationship can outlast this._

A sniff distracts me. Ikuno is crying gently into her arm, her petite frame shaking softly. Reaching across the table I take the back of her hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

"Hey, whatever happens I will be there, okay?"

She nods slowly, as teardrops stain the aged wood.

— — —

Roaring all around us, the crowd feels like a single living entity, trying to catch us in it's clutches. Swearing to myself I pull a red-faced Hisao to the sidelines, bursting out of the thong of people. _Why did we decide to meet in the busiest place of the festival?_

Now that there is some breathing room I can get a good look at my companion for the day, neatly dressed with his hair combed back, he polishes up well - in fact he could easily slip away into the crowd. Spend the day as a visitor to this freak show, not an attraction.

_I'm jealous._

"You look nice," he says bashfully.

I feel my cheeks go bright red. _Damn it. _

"Thanks, so… so do you." I stammer quietly.

"Thanks."

Hugging my arms across my chest I look around awkwardly, while he does the same, rubbing the length of his arm with the flat of his hand.

"So, what do you want to do?" I ask, forcing my voice back to normal levels.

"I dunno." He shrugs slightly. "You invited me, I assumed you had a plan?"

"Well, that's a dangerous assumption," I say, raising my eyebrows at him.

"Sorry," he says, his mouth curled somewhere between a smile and a grimace, not sure if I'm joking or not.

"Well," I grin. "What did you do before coming here? Other than read."

He shivers very slightly, like someone has walked over his grave, or he had a haunting memory. _I would know all about that. _"Hanging out at the arcade and playing soccer with my friends, not much else really."

_Why are you here Hisao Nakai?_

"Well, then I think I should beat you at carnival games until I get bored, then you can buy me lunch."

I wait while he processes what I just said, hoping he won't become offended. Staring off into the middle distance with a dreamlike look on his face I start to become worried, what if he has epilepsy? _One of the girls in my class has. _Watching an attack was horrible… I mean I guess it sucked just as much for her, but I was shaken for the rest of the day.

_So, are you epileptic Nakai?_

"You still with me?" I ask nervously.

"Oh," he smiles, though it seems to be a little forced. "Just wondering what you're going to get me for lunch when I beat you at all of these games."

"What?" I ask, laughing at his leap of logic.

"Well, that's how it works right, the loser buys lunch?"

"Deal," I say, a huge smile on my face. "You watch, I will beat you singlehandedly."

— — —

"Damn it!" I swear as my second ring flies wildly off-target, nearly assassinating Molly, who ducks for cover. Hisao and I are tied neck and neck for carnival games, I had assumed, wrongly, that arcade games would not translate into the real world.

"Are you sure this thing isn't rigged Molly?" I demand.

"You helped set this up, you were here this morning!" She grumbles, having to bend awkwardly on her prosthetic legs to retrieve an overzealously thrown hoop of plastic. Out of the corner of my eye I see Hisao grimace. _He has a lot to learn about the people here_

"If the game is rigged, how come I hit with two of my three rings?" Hisao points out mockingly.

"Listen to new boy Miura," Molly smirks.

_Just ignore them, just ignore them. _Focusing my gaze on a suitable looking peg I take a deep breath. _This is my goal, I will not stop until this hoop reaches it, nothing else matters._

I throw.

All three of us watch in stunned silence as the green plastic ring soars through the air, obeying some arcane laws of physics that only Mutou can understand. This is the longest second of my life, everything depends on this, well, lunch depends on this.

"Lucky," Hisao mutters as the hoop lands perfectly on my intended target. _Well okay, the peg next to my intended target, but no one needs to know that. _Raising both arms above my head I drink in my victory. _Wait. Damn it, this is a draw!_

"So, this means we buy each other lunch?" Hisao ventures.

"I guess so." I grin.

"So you two are?" Molly says, a delighted smile spread across her face.

"Just friends!" I exclaim, perhaps a little too quickly.

"Sure you are." She smirks, moving off to deal with the next customer.

_Oh hell, I hate gossip._

"So, lunch?" I ask my distraction.

— — —

"Wahahaha~!"

My head rings with Misha's resonating laugh. Isn't there a thing where if you make a sound at the right frequency you can collapse a building? She's going to split my head in two any second now.

"Hello Misha!" I have to shout to make myself heard above her din. Shizune looks at me curiously. I guess for her the only difference between a shout and a whisper is the amount of strain on the speaker's face.

"I didn't know you and Hicchan were going to the festival together!" She smiles jubilantly, though I notice the bags under her eyes, barely hidden by her concealer. _It would not surprise me if Shizune chained her to the desk and forced her to work._

I shrug, not wanting to answer her. How these two managed to sneak up on us is beyond me, Misha sneaking up on anyone seems a bit ridiculous. Hisao and I had just been enjoying lunch, seated in the shade away from the chattering crowd.

"I guess you two are pretty busy huh?" I ask, my eyes drawn to the odd look Shizune is giving me. That's right class rep, he chose to come with me, and I don't even like him like that. _Jealous?_

"Very. We have to keep this entire festival working. Your lazy friend is not around to help today."

"I always said she was the smartest member of the student council," I shrug.

Misha translates before seeming to realise what I just said.

"Heeeeey!" she pouts, hands on her hips, throwing out her impressive chest. Shizune meanwhile just glares at me, planning some kind divine retribution. At least I got to finish lunch first.

"Hicchan, I hope you don't plan to spend your entire year around lazy people?" Misha translates.

"Uh, well, I dunno. I'm just trying to settle in right now." He fidgets uncomfortably in his seat, drawn into an argument he was happy enough to observe. _Poor kid._

"Yeah, Shizune, stop bullying everyone just because you've bitten off more than you can chew. Hisao has already helped more than most transfers to a new school would." I say levelly, keeping my temper under control. Hisao throws me a grateful look while Misha translates.

Unfortunately before any more scathing remarks can be thrown Ikuno appears, red faced and flustered, ignoring everyone else she makes a beeline for me.

"Can we talk?" she whispers hastily, clearly upset.

"Sure," I say, getting to my feet. Catching Hisao's confused look I grimace. Staying here is not an option, Ikuno needs me. But leaving Hisao to the whims of the student council seems cruel. _Sorry kid, sacrifices must be made in war - and high school._

"I have to dash. I'm really sorry, see you in class tomorrow?"

He nods speechless, as Shizune slides into the seat I was just in, a delighted look on her face. Yeah, smile away, Hisao can see where the bad news sits. _I hope._

I have to jog to keep up with Ikuno as she power walks away, sliding through the mass of people like a steam ship through an iceberg, I can see her wince as her shoulder connects with each innocent festival goer.

"Hey," I say, grabbing her arm to slow her down. "What's going on? Where are your parents?"

She turns to me, large eyes wide, before settling herself into step beside me. _For a moment I thought she might try to punch me._

"Mum and dad have gone back to the hotel. They want to take me for dinner in the city later," She says in one breath, steering us off the path and towards the dormitories. "I have to get ready and meet them in the car park later."

"Okay?" I really hope she didn't just drag me away from Hisao and my planned carnival game revenge to help her get dressed up.

"It is not okay!" She snaps, rounding on me, a fury in her eye reminiscent of our last argument. "Ryouta found me, and well, I couldn't," She trails off for a moment as she struggles with the heavy door.

"What did you do?" I ask frowning.

"I blanked him okay? I pretended I didn't know him, and he just kind of… walked off." She stamps her foot onto the first step as she climbs.

This is amazing, even though she mentioned this yesterday I really did not believe that Ikuno would be the one to mess things up, and in such style. The archetypes of our little group have been so clearly defined from the start: She's the brains, Ryouta is the funny one, and I'm the screw up.

"Why the hell would you do that?" I groan, as she starts her fevered assault on the next flight of stairs.

"I panicked!"

"Well what are you going to do?"

"I don't know!" she's almost shouting now, thank goodness this building is mostly deserted. "And now he's not answering his phone, and I have to go to dinner, and… Help, please." She sighs defeatedly.

"Right, well you go to dinner, I will try and find Ryouta." I try an encouraging smile, but my face betrays me. I really don't know if there's a coming back from this, it's all of Ryouta's worst fears rolled into one, and I told him not to worry about it.

Ikuno nods, struggling to undo her small black bag. An angry tug sends the contents spilling onto the carpeted floor.

"Damn it!" She yells, punching her leg hard with her hand, fat tears starting to roll down her face.

In two long steps I am crouched at her side, collecting her medical supplies from the floor. At least her electronic blood thingy seems to be undamaged. Silently I pass her the implements she requires in order, I've seen her do this so many times it's become second nature without me realising it.

"I love him Miki," She says softly as we wait for her blood sugar results.

"Does he know?"

Ikuno shakes her head, another pair of tears cutting lines though her expensive make up.

"Well, tell him. I should have."

"You mean with Ayu-"

"Yes," I cut her off, not wanting to discuss that matter further. The question keeps repeating itself in my mind, would he have stayed if I had told him? I don't know, I could not even hazard a guess, he seemed to be happy with me. _But. _He accepted we would part so easily, even after months of being together. _I need to focus on Ikuno now._

"Look," I say, "everything is going to be okay."

"Y… you really think so?" She sniffs.

_No._

"Yes, now go get ready for dinner."

— — —

There are faint gunshots coming from inside Ryouta's room, I panic for a brief moment, before realising it must be his television. Knocking hard, I wait. The television is muted, but I hear no more sounds.

"Ryouta," I call through the door. "I know you're in there, open up."

Silence, how hard is it to kick down a door? I see it in movies all the time, I take a step back, eyeing up my target. _No, no this is not a good idea._

I knock again, harder this time. "Ryouta! Open up, Ikuno told me what happened."

"Go away, Miki!" He yells back, making me flinch, he must be just on the other side of the door.

"Please? I just want to talk, make sure you're okay."

"I'm fine, now go away!"

Leaving isn't an option, I promised Ikuno, but I don't know what to tell him. Yes, despite what I said your girlfriend really didn't tell her parents about you, and yes, perhaps blanking you was a bit rude. But come on, we all make mistakes, she loves you after all.

"Just, promise you won't do something stupid, okay?" I regret it as soon as I say it, with a crash his door is ripped open. Ryouta stands in front of me, red faced, his neat school tie at an odd angle.

"Is that what you think?" he growls, "Oh poor Ryouta, he's been dumped and now he's going to off himself!"

"What… no!" I stammer, but he speaks over me.

"I don't need her, and I don't need you, I will be fine by myself."

_But she loves you!_

"Just go away!" Before I can reply he slams the door in my face, the bang echoes all along the corridor. _Just great._

This time last year everything seemed to be going our way, now it seems everything is starting to fall apart around me, and I have no idea how or if I can put the pieces back together again. _Is this Karma?_

I've never really believed that there was anything _More, _like a spirit watching over us. But, if I were such an entity and I wished to punish me, this is how I would do it. Hurt the people I care about, take away the one I love and force me to see the details of my crime whenever I close my eyes.

With my hand starting to burn I head back to my room, strolling under the same star-filled sky I tried so hard to put into words. _Is something up there out to get me?_


	20. Fallout

_I plummet silently towards the water, it's icy blackness fills my vision as a scream tears at my throat. Bracing myself against the truck's dashboard I close my eyes, waiting for the crash… that never comes. _

"_You want a ride?" Tatsuo asks. _

_My eyes snap open. I'm standing in a crowd of people, my peers, all looking at me like I'm mad. Without a second thought I climb up into the truck, fastening my seatbelt. With a screech of tyres we tear out onto the road. _

_I feel like I've done this before, but I can't put my finger on when. Suddenly we are stopped by the pavement, and I'm in the driver's seat. I blink confusedly, not sure what happened. _

"_Are you listening to me?" Tatsuo shouts from beside my open window. "Watch the truck!" _

_I nod mutely, watching him walk away. Rounding a corner he disappears from view, but someone else gets my attention. A black haired boy walks down the street, his white cane unfolded and tapping a safe route - Ayumu! _

_I watch him move closer, trying to open the door, only to find it locked, but it's okay he will be here soon. When he's about twenty feet away he stops abruptly. To my wonderment he slowly opens his eyes. _

_Recalling in horror, I stare at him. His eyes are cold and white, dead and careless. His mouth opens to shout something, but the roar of an engine reaches me first. Turning just in time I see the outline of a grey prison bus, before it slams in the side of the truck, throwing me into darkness. _

_The sound of rain echoes around me. Opening my eyes I already know what I'm going to see. Tatsuo lies dead before me, the blood from his head dripping into a torrent of water that is flowing through the ruined cab of the truck, as if we had crashed into a stream. _

_I try to move, but I'm paralysed, stuck to my seat. Icy water splashes against my cheek, getting deeper; Tatsuo's face is already submerged, three stray bubbles sliding from his mouth. _

"_H…help!" I croak, as the rain outside intensifies. _

_With a sound like a gunshot the windshield cracks, a polished boot blurs into my vision. The water has reached the corner of my mouth. I panic, looking up at the booted intruder. My grandfather stands above me, his wet shirt matching the contours of aged muscle. Eyes fixed on me, he grimaces as if I were nothing but dirt. _

"_Help! Help!" I cry again, as the water starts to slide over my nose, struggling with everything I have I take a last breath before I vanish under the tide. With my vision blurred by the rushing currents I can just make out my grandfather turn and walk away. _

"_No!" I scream soundlessly, as icy death slides into my throat. Everything goes black. _

I wake up in my dark room, gasping for air desperately. It takes me a few moments to realise that firstly, that was a dream, and secondly I'm not drowning. Outside, the rain that threatened the festival's firework display pounds on the window. With bile in my throat I climb out of bed, almost stumbling over a discarded t-shirt on my way to turn on my desk lamp.

Falling into my office chair I sigh audibly, the clock on my bedside table taunts me with the time, three a.m. - too early to be awake, too late to bother trying to go back to sleep. _Damn the rain! _Without it I could be on my way to a run right about now.

Seeming to realise I'm awake and should be reminded of it's presence my left hand starts to tingle, icy thrills shooting up my fingertips, as if my hand were still pinned under a submerged truck. There's no way around it, the dreams have been getting worse, much worse. Foolishly I had hoped the truth might relieve my nightly terrors, instead with their grim task completed, they now seem content to play with me.

Ikuno got back late, having been treated to what I'm sure was a very fancy meal. I would have liked to meet her parents as well, if for nothing other than to thank them for my beautiful Kimono, which is now hanging neatly in my closet. _At least spending time with Hisao today went well. _Despite his apparent apathy he's a fun person to be with. Secretly I think he enjoyed the competitive games as a much as I did.

— — —

_That is my goal I will not stop- _"Gaaah!"

My feet slide out from under me on the waterlogged track, just as the sun peeks above the horizon. With a wet thud I hit the astroturf hard. With only one hand to catch my fall I end up sprawled almost face down on the four hundred metre mark.

"Damn it!" I punch the ground with my fist, achieving nothing but more pain. Sitting up I find my knees are scraped, small trickles of blood trailing their way down to stain my socks. It's disturbingly reminiscent of the blood dripping from Tatsuo's head. As I get to my shaky feet, trying to banish the memory from my mind the rain which had let up for a while resumes, drenching me in an unforgiving haze.

With the wind at my back I jog to the medical centre. Erupting through the door I sneeze, spraying water droplets from my hair all over the walls, the sound echoing down the corridor. _Someones dead, if I end up with a cold on top of everything else. _

"You sound decidedly unwell, Miss Miura," The nurse says, stepping out of his office. _He is awake and working at this hour, is he a vampire? _

"How many years of medical school did that diagnosis take?" I ask grumpily, wringing the water out of my ponytail, to puddle on the tile floor.

"That diagnosis was inherent skill. It's a gift." He laughs. "What can I do for you this morning?"

I point to my scraped knees, feeling like I'm back at elementary school. _Nurse it hurts! _

"And how, may I ask, did you manage that?" The nurse gestures for me to follow him into his office.

"I slipped on the track," I grunt, sitting on the paper-covered table in the centre of his sanctum. _Or is it a lair?_ Shivering slightly I watch as he gathers his medical supplies.

"Well, I would say what you need is someone to run with," he says sagely, starting to clean the grit out of my wounds. I gasp with the sudden sting of the cold antiseptic and rough treatment of the damaged flesh. "Oh yes, this might sting a bit," he adds unhelpfully.

"I'm not really close enough to anyone in the track team to run with them," I shrug.

"How about Emi?" he suggests, drying my now clean scrapes.

"Nah, I don't need to be beaten in my leisure time."

"Hmmm… How about your new classmate, I've been trying to get him to do more to look after himself." He gives me a knowing look. "And you two get on well right?"

"How could you possibly know that?" I ask, wincing as he applies plasters to my knees.

"I have my sources," he replies cryptically.

_What the hell? _Is he saying he has a network of spies or something? I mean, it shouldn't surprise me really, he always seems to be on good terms with every student he meets, but I didn't realise he was keeping tabs on people.

"You're watching us?" I ask, raising my eyebrow.

"I wouldn't say that, but I like to keep my finger on Yamaku's pulse."

"Well if I discover hidden camera's in the showers you're getting blackmailed so fast."

He rubs his chin, feigning deep thought. "I think you should be okay in the _girl's_ showers."

"That's gross," I laugh.

It's amazing how quickly I find myself relaxing around the nurse, his natural charm and devilish sense of humour blend together perfectly. It's like he was designed in a secret government lab._ Or underwent secret vampire charm training. _Even Shizune would find herself calming down in his presence, assuming Misha was able to translate without laughing to much.

"So, will you do me a favour? Let Hisao join you for some light excise?"

The thought of Hisao running with me scares and thrills me in equal measure. My time on the track, despite appearances, is deeply personal. _It's one of the reasons I will never be as fast as Emi, I can't let go in front of people._

Allowing him to see me let everything go, and just run for the pure unbridled joy of the movement, of the release, racing against nothing but my hopes and fears… Well, it would be like him seeing me naked, but more than just my bare flesh. _Running opens a window into my soul. _

"I'll consider it," I say simply.

"Well, that's a start." Grinning he stands, turning his back on me to rummage in a cupboard, before withdrawing, of all things, a bright red umbrella.

"Just return it whenever the mood takes you."

"Thanks," I mumble, getting to my feet. I've dried out slightly in his warm office, but the bandages on my arm still feel like paper mache and my damp clothes cling to me, skin tight. I need a shower and some kind of miracle to get through school today.

"Would you like a nurse's note?" He offers kindly.

I refuse. If I start to skip lessons every time I have a disturbed night I will never graduate. Saying my goodbyes I leave his office, opening the umbrella to ward off the heaven's assault.

— — —

Hot water flows over my body, washing away the chill and mingled aches of this morning's activities. I had hoped the steaming cascade would help wake me up - no such luck. It's around the time in the morning when the students with normal sleep patterns are starting their day. Hearing them drag a pair of sleepy feet into the echoing bathroom I'm glad I didn't absent-mindedly start singing, an old shower habit.

Regretfully shutting off the shower I grab my pink fluffy towel - Ikuno insisted mine from home was a health hazard and made me get this - before stepping onto the cool tiled floor. Sitting on the bench that runs through the centre of the room Suzu blinks sleepily, still dressed in her sleep shorts and a well worn t-shirt. She's kind of cute, like a kitten about to nod off into a bowl of milk.

Molly, her neighbour and minder, tugs off her nightdress with no regard for modesty. When I first encountered this particular trait I was shocked, until I realised her reasoning, Molly, like me, would rather have someone stare at her breasts than her stumps.

_Not that I'm looking at either._

"You look awful. Did Hisao keep you up all night?" Molly says, striping off the last of her clothing, I look away quickly, like I need any more rumours flying around about my love life.

"N…no," Suzu yawns, staring dreamily at me.

"And how would you know that?" My legless hall mate enquires, completely ignoring me. She sits down on a wooden stall starting to remove her legs. Normally I would be long gone by this point, but I'm as curious as Molly to hear Suzu's answer.

"Hisao watched the fireworks with Misha and Shi… Shi… Shizune." Her yawn has an almost musical quality to it.

"And you're sure you weren't dreaming this?" I intervene before Molly, who has her legs off now and is passing them out to her inattentive blue-haired friend, can speak.

My cheeks burn, Hisao, watching the fireworks with _them_? It doesn't make sense, we had fun didn't we? Well, I did at least. Leaving him with her was an emergency, a major catastrophe had just decimated my best friends love life, he should understand that right? He wouldn't chose _Her _over me. _Would he?_

"I am awake sometimes you know," dreary-eyed Suzu replies, taking her friend's prosthetics and laying them neatly on the bench. There is no anger in her voice, just a sad kind of defiance.

"I know." Sighing I head for the door. "I'm sorry Suzu, see you two in class?"

"Don't be late," she chirps, taking the swish of Molly's shower curtain as an excuse to lay down flat on the bench, apparently planning a steamy power nap.

"Suzu Suzuzki, I swear if you're asleep out there!" Molly's yell follows me out into the corridor.

— — —

Knocking on Ikuno's door I'm hit with a sudden mix of fear and trepidation. Normally she would be the one urging me to get a move on in the morning, but I've not seen hide or hair of her so far today. Being able to shower and dress at a leisurely pace is one of the, admittedly small, advantages of chronic nightmares.

It wouldn't be the first time I've nearly given myself a concussion trying to pull on a knee sock. Luckily I don't have Ikuno's make-up addiction, otherwise I would have lost an eye by now. _Come on. _I knock again, a touch impatiently. She's sad, I get that, but lying in bed won't fix anything. _Especially after my complete failure last night. _

"Ikuno, I have a spare key remember," I shout through the door, "You can't hide from me."

_She wouldn't do anything stupid would she?_

Pressing my ear to the wood I listen hard, my eyes closed firmly. _Nothing. _When I open my eyes again I meet Misaki's inquisitive gaze as she locks her bedroom door, school satchel hanging from her uneven shoulders.

Under her white blouse the outline of a brace is clearly visible. It looks uncomfortable, like one of those Victorian corsets, but made of plastic. I guess it must help with her condition, sclerosis. _Unlike me, our resident class photographer is quick to tell you about her problem, with seemingly no provocation. _

With still no sound from inside Ikuno's room I heave a sigh. Fine, well at least we swapped keys. _I must thank the nurse for his little buddy system suggestion. _The door unlocks with a ominous click, I half expect a horror movie style squeak as I push it open.

Stepping over the threshold I'm hit by the sudden overpowering fragrance of exotic perfumes, mixed one on top of another, that seem to have crept into every surface. With the curtains drawn the only light in the room comes from her many chains of fairy lights, throwing uncharacteristically discarded clothes into irregular relief. Ikuno herself lies curled under her bright pink bed sheets, a muffled beating explains why I didn't get an answer, she's listening to music.

With a squeal of fright and bedsprings Ikuno rips off her headphones, staring at me open-mouthed, she looks a mess. Her eyes are puffy and red, black trails of mascara blemish her cheeks, like mud stepped through a pristine carpet.

"Hey, there," I say softly, kneeling down next to her bed.

"What time is it?" she whispers, rubbing her tired eyes with her palms.

"Time for school, how you feeling?"

She shrugs, I didn't get a chance to talk to her last night, having assumed she would go straight to bed. But it looks like she didn't get much sleep, I've never really known Ikuno upset or depressed before, but like her confidence with shopping it seems to be an extreme side of her, one that she keeps hidden.

Her top-of-the-range pink mobile sits open on her bedside table, the screen facing her. _Has she been checking this all night? _Her bloodshot blue eyes follow mine, glistening with moisture when they catch the phone.

"I've texted him like a hundred times, and.. and tried phoning him," She sniffs. "His phone is turned off."

"Well, I guess he just wants some space," I try and sound reassuring, but I don't think it's working. "How did dinner go?"

"I told them about Ryouta," she wails suddenly in despair, like a child a few seconds after falling over. If this was any other time I would laugh at her, but this isn't funny. Why the hell would she tell them about Ryouta _after _the argument, if she was going to tell them anyway couldn't she have done so before the festival and saved us all a headache?

"Were they upset?" I venture, holding my breath without realising.

"Worse!" she cries, closing her eyes. "They want to meet him."

_Oh hell. _

"Oh…" I say unhelpfully, after all that they want to meet him anyway? _I thought I had a complicated relationship with my parents. _

"Dad was angry, but… but mum talked him into meeting Ryouta the next time they're in town," she says defeatedly. "But I don't even know if we are still together, or if he still likes me, and he won't even talk to me, and I've not gotten any sleep, and I'm such a mess and, and, and…" Her frantic list of problems is replaced with deep gasping sobs, as she pushes her face into her pillow.

_What the hell do I do? _

I have no idea how to fix this, no idea where to even start, she really has fucked this up. Well, I guess one problem at a time normally works, not that I've ever been in a situation this complicated. _Lying about manslaughter and missing a hand are such simple things to get your head around. _

"Look, try and get some sleep. I will tell Mutou you're not feeling well."

"T… thanks, M…Miki," her words are hard to make out between sniffs. Smiling at her softly my eyes wander to her wall clock, is that the right time? Jumping to my feet I startle Ikuno, who gazes at me.

"I'm going to be late for class!" I say, heading for the door.

"Wait!" She calls, catching me just before I open her door. "Don't we have to tell the Nurse?"

"Oh," I grin, "don't worry he will know sooner or later, he has eyes everywhere."

Leaving Ikuno with a confused look on her dishevelled face, I grab my school bag, sprinting for the stairs; damn short skirts. _I can't believe I'm going to be late for class when I woke up at three AM! _


	21. A Note on Settling Dust

How can it have only been five minutes? It's felt like two hours since I last allowed myself to look at the clock, mounted below the sun faded flag in room 3:3. My eyes ache, the dim morning sun that I watched rise now reflects cruelly off every surface. Moutou stands before us, his outline blurred through my watering eyes.

"I hope everyone had a fun and productive festival."

_More fun and destructive for me. _

Without waiting for any kind of reply Mutou begins to write on the blackboard, the lump of chalk complaining audibly at the rough treatment. I wonder if Ryouta made it to class today? He's not answered my text messages yet.

"We will be splitting off and performing some light work as partners this morning." Our teacher indicates the page numbers he managed to haphazardly scribble on the board. "I trust everyone is able to find a partner?"

His instructions slowly ripple through the students, who lazily start to shift chairs and desks, establishing their normal pairings. Shizune and Misha, Molly and Suzu, the newspaper club girls - perhaps Ryota had a point about them… _No, dirty boy stay out of my mind. _Eventually only myself, Hisao and Hanako remain partnerless.

Catching Hisao's hazelnut eyes I nod at him, gesturing to my desk and hoping he gets the signal. Shizune doesn't miss it at any rate. She stares between us, throwing Hisao a curious look before giving me a withering glare. Unfortunately, or fortunately depending on your perspective, she's unwilling to dump her best friend for a boy.

"What about Hanako?" Hisao asks, sitting down at Ikuno's vacant desk.

_Thankfully with her chair being empty I don't have to get out of my comfortable seat to join Hisao. _

"Oh," I mumble, my eyes drifting to the back of the room. Since starting at Yamaku, Hanako has been somewhat of an enigma. Ikuno talks about her conspiratorially, as if she were a bomb set to explode if noticed. A flash of purple hair disappearing around a doorway has become a common sight. Still, she seems friendly enough, just a little timid.

_I'm sure Mutou wouldn't mind us bending the partner rule. _

"Mind if she joins us?" I ask, my eyes still on Hanako, who is packing away her supplies quickly. It's like watching someone turning up for a race, taking their marks, then giving up before the pistol has even been fired. Not quitting in rage or some other over exaggerated display of emotion, but a willing acceptance of her own failings. _It's depressing to watch. _

With an ill-fitting grace she rises to her feet, careful not to disturb even the air around her. She has mastered going unnoticed. _I bet she would make one hell of a cat burgler. _Gliding swiftly past my desk, I catch her eye.

"Hanako," I call softly.

She stops in her tracks, as the room falls silent, every eye turned to us. _Shit. _I've messed up. Hanako looks terrified, unsure if she should run or try and hide, even Mutou looks up from his magazine to observe this strange occurrence.

"Did you want to work with us?" I ask awkwardly.

The room waits on baited breath for her answer. I wish they wouldn't. I've done nothing more than make our shyest classmate uncomfortable, she's not able to even speak, instead she shakes her head and rushes to the door. Cheeks burning I turn to Hisao, who shrugs.

"Is she being bullied?" he wonders, opening his textbook. The chatter in the room slowly returning to its normal volume, however much these people might understand what it's like to be different, they still enjoy a free show.

"I don't think so, she's just really shy."

"Well, at least you tried right?" he says, picking up on how uncomfortable I am.

"I guess, so you know any of this?" I change the subject, looking down at the incomprehensible equations; Newton is like Shakespeare, old and impossible to understand.

"Yeah, I guess." Shrugging noncommittally he pulls his chair a little closer to mine, starting to explain.

He knows his stuff, but he speaks as if he's not sure, as if he's just guessing at answers. If it's an effort not to make me feel stupid, it's working. _Come on Miki, you can run nearly as fast as a girl with no legs! That will be useful for finding a job. _Time passes easily in his company, even when struggling to understand physics. I find myself becoming lost in his words.

"So, do you understand?" he asks, leaning back in his chair, a coy smile on his face.

"I think so. You're a good teacher," I smirk. "I should return the favour."

"Oh?" He sits forward; interested.

"Nurse said you wanted to run, I wouldn't mind the company."

My cheeks warm, as if I had asked him on a date. I'm not sure what suddenly changed my mind about running with him, but it's too late to go back now.

"I don't know about wanting to," he says with a grimace. "But I'm supposed to be keeping myself in shape, so, sure why not?"

_Do epileptic people need to keep themselves in shape? Perhaps I'm wrong with my imagined diagnosis. _

"Good, tomorrow before sundown work for you?" I ask, beginning to pack away my supplies. I want to be able to leave promptly at lunch time.

"Don't most people run in the mornings?" Taking my example he starts to pack away his books.

"Don't most people find scientific formulas boring?" I retort, my eyes drifting to the clock, five minutes until lunch.

He laughs softly, a smile playing on his lips.

"Got plans for lunch?" I say, enjoying the dimples that appear on his cheeks when he smiles; something I hadn't noticed before.

"Hanging out with Shizune and Misha; the normal."

I feel a stab in my gut - it's like he just punched me, hard. _He doesn't even look guilty. _Did I honestly think he would forget about _them _after watching the fireworks? _I had hoped. _I know, looks-wise, I can't compete with Misha's ample chest or Shizune's cool, sophisticated style. _My last boyfriend was blind, Hisao isn't. _

"Oh," I mummer, averting my eyes from his traitorous face.

"Is something wrong?" He asks, his eyebrows creasing in a worried frown.

"No, no, it's fine, just anxious to catch one of my friends before he leaves class." It's not untrue, I do want to catch Ryouta before he can escape back into radio lockdown.

Together we sit in silence. With the brief lull in activity behind me I feel my eyes start to droop. _Come on you've made it 'till lunchtime. _But I still have to talk to Ryouta, and I've upset Hanako, plus Ikuno is still depressed. Pushing my stump into my stomach I ignore the tingling, I just want to go to bed.

Finally the bell resonates through the halls, and the class rises as one. Mutou peers up from his magazine dreamily, apparently realising that we are all still here. Blinking wearily he gets to his feet.

"I understand yesterday was a tiring experience, but I want you to give Miss Miyagi your full attention this afternoon."

_Yes, yes, I'll be super interested in English, just let me go. _

"Miura can I have a word? The rest of you are excused," he says, his eyes meeting mine.

My classmates look at me curiously as they leave. Some, like Shizune, look downright disapproving. I know I screwed up with Hanako, but can't I get my telling off another time? _It's hopeless, in the time it would take me to explain my situation it would already be too late. _

Sighing I step forward, determined to receive my detention with head held high. Hell, at least I tried to get through to Hanako, I don't see anyone else doing that. No, I did my best, and if I'm to be punished so be it. _Come at me Mutou, I'm not afraid. _I stand up a little straighter in front of his desk.

"Now Miss Miura, how are you getting on?" He asks, looking up at me with a creased brow.

"Fine…" I say unsurely. Perhaps he's building slowly to my telling off - would be like him.

"Because I've noticed a decline in the quality of your work since the start of the year." he says matter of factly.

The obvious answer is that between the truth of my accident, Ayumu's absence and a haunted hand, school work has been very low on my list of priorities. Add to that the sense of hopelessness I get whenever I think about the future, and you have a perfect storm for dodged homework.

"I guess I've been falling behind, I will try harder," I mumble, shrugging my shoulders.

"That's not a very motivational statement, Miss Miura."

_Well what do you want me to say?_

"I'm sorry," I reply, looking down at my feet; not feeling sorry at all.

"Remember you graduate at the end of this year, have you had any thoughts on what you might like to do?" He raises an eyebrow at me. With messy hair and deep bags under his eyes he looks like a zombie. _Though, I doubt I look much better. _

"Physical therapist," I state simply, that dream now seems so far away, replaced by grim prison cells or dead-end labour.

"Well, that's something at least. I'm unsure about the specific requirements, but I would imagine a good scientific knowledge would be invaluable." He smiles sedately, sitting back down in his squeaking desk chair. "I can provide additional tutoring and homework, as can every teacher at this school, but nothing is going to happen unless you want it to, do you understand?"

Nodding I take a step backwards, hoping I might be able to escape; assuming it's not too late to catch Ryouta. Mutou is right, if I want something I have to work for it, I know that, the question is, what do I want? _Well, not additional schoolwork for a start. _

"Oh, and thank you for attempting to include Ikezawa; I'm afraid I'm quite at a loss with what to do with her sometimes."

It takes me a moment to realise he's talking about Hanako and another moment still to work out I'm not in trouble. _Success. _For me anyway. I still can't help but feel I've done more harm than good where Hanako is concerned.

"I don't think I helped much," I grimace, taking another step towards the hallway and freedom.

Mutou picks up his dog eared magazine, interestingly it's this month's issue, he must have read and reread it multiple times. "Well, it remains to be seen, you will tell me if you wish to utilise extra tuition?"

Again I nod, though with his gaze fixed on the magazine I doubt he saw.

"Good," he says, "I will talk to my colleague about what might be required for a physical therapist."

"Err, thanks," I mumble, almost at the door now.

Mutou, quite unconcerned with what I'm doing, puts his feet up on his desk. "Enjoy lunch, Miss Miura."

With a stammered goodbye I flee into the corridor. _Please say Ryouta was kept behind as well. _

— — —

As expected Ryouta's classroom is deserted. _Damn it! _I feel like punching something, this is so unfair, why did Mutou decide he had a vested interest in my future today of all days? Resting my head on the cool stone wall I take several deep breaths. _Right, focus. Where would Ryouta go?_

Pulling out my silenced phone I check for missed calls or messages. Nothing, but I didn't hold out much hope for that particular means of communication. Deciding to check out his normal haunts I set off at brisk pace. Ryouta isn't stupid, despite appearances, he knows I'm looking for him and will not be found easily.

_Assuming he even came to school in the first place, he might just have stayed in bed like Ikuno. _

Taking the quiet steps two at a time I reach the cafeteria. A wall of buzzing sound hits me as I step through the open doors, barely avoiding having my toes crushed by a boy in a wheelchair, who looks back over his shoulder apologetically before disappearing into the crowd.

I scan the room quickly, trying to find Ryouta's distinctive glasses or plump frame, but it's useless. He could be anywhere in this sea of faces. I begin to walk down the aisles, quickly checking students. A few jump out, but no one whom I wish to talk to.

With a resigned sigh I make my way back through the chattering crowd, I don't feel hungry, though I suspect some food wouldn't go amiss. _I have more important things than my stomach to think about at the moment. _Stepping back through the white double doors feels like jumping into a pool, the noise level decreases significantly, replaced with half-captured conversations of stragglers left in the hallways.

_Think, think, what's the last place he would expect me to go? Aha! _

Empowered with fresh determination I head towards the library.

—

I always expect these places to smell musty and old, but in reality the Yamaku school library is fresh and airy. Large windows bathe the room in natural light. Even if I'm not a fan of the books within, I can appreciate a nice place to sit and relax.

Much like a tourist I set off down the isles, bright book spines catching my attention, poking out of light wooden shelves. To my surprise the room that at first glance seemed empty, is hiding a number of students, sequestered on beanbags among the rows of shelves.

Passing a brass plate inscribed with 'Fiction' I spot a familiar shine of dark purple hair - Hanako. With her face buried in a book it seems like she doesn't notice my approach, but her body tenses slightly as I draw nearer. _How fucked up was her life before Yamaku? _

"Hey," I say quietly, sitting on a squishy red beanbag opposite her.

"M..Miura!" She jumps, peeking up from behind her book, amethyst eyes glittering slightly.

"You can call me Miki, if you want."

"A… a… are you… o… okay?" She stammers, words slightly muffled by the pages of her book, the front cover of which depicts a tiger. I wonder what it's about.

"Yeah, I came to make sure you were okay, after what happened in class?"

"I…I'm o…okay, It.. it was… j… just a sh…shock." she hides behind her book once again.

"I'm sorry, it was my fault…" I trail off, but it's hard feeling sorry for myself around Hanako, it feels insulting. "Listen, if you want to do group work in class; well I don't mind you working with us."

"Y…You and… Hisao?" She looks up suddenly with newfound confidence.

"You know him?" I ask, trying, and failing, not to sound like a gossipy girl.

"He… he seems n… nice, L… Lilly likes him too," She says, as if Lilly's judgement is a true testament of his character.

_I vaguely recall that Lilly is the class rep of 2:3, Ayumu's old classroom. _

_Hang on. _Hisao has been here for just about a week, and he is already on the positive radar of at least four girls, five if I include myself, which I'm starting to feel I have to. _What the hell? _Is animal magnetism a disability now? I mean, it can't be normal, can it? No other boy that I know of has had that effect.

"How do you know Lilly?" I ask, trying not to sound too threatened.

"S…she's my friend, s… she's nice."

"My my, I hope you're not gossiping behind my back Hanako," someone giggles behind us, in unison we turn, I crick my neck in my haste; so this is Lilly?

_I'm screwed. _

I've seen this girl before, tall and unmistakably foreign she holds herself like a woman of state, or ballroom dancer poised to take to the floor. Her eyes, a dreamy blue are clouded slightly, other than her white cane the only obvious sign of her blindness. This girl is beautiful, and if Hanako is to be believed, Hisao knows that.

"N…no!" Hanako peeps, jumping quickly to her feet.

Lilly however giggles softly, accepting Hanako's arm in hers with a well practiced motion. She puts a lot of effort into pretending she isn't blind, completely unlike Ayumu who did what came naturally to him - it's a interesting change in perspective.

"Sorry, Hanako," she smiles benignly at her shy friend, who covers half her scarred face with her hand.

I want to tell her not to, that I would never judge her because of the scars, however such a statement would only cause embarrassment. Because in my own head, I do judge her, not unkindly, but I can't help but feel motherly around her. Like she's fragile and liable to fall apart if not handled correctly. _I don't know how true that is, but better leave it up to the experts. _

"But who is your friend? I don't believe we've been introduced?"

"T…t…this.. is… Mi…Miki," Hanako stammers.

"Miki Miura," I finish quickly, keen not to make Hanako suffer anymore than I already have. "I'm in Hanako's class," I say lamely.

"My, then you must know Hisao?" She asks, orienting herself to face me.

_Yes, and he's potentially mine once I can sort my life out, so back off. _

"Yeah, we spent most of the festival together," I reply, getting to my feet.

"Im glad about that, I worried he was struggling to adjust to life here at Yamaku."

"Well, I think he will be okay, if I can keep him out of the reach of the student council that is," I respond grumpily. To my surprise both Lilly and Hanako giggle cryptically; offering no explanation.

"Hm, I'm afraid Hanako and I must be going. It was nice to meet you, Miss Miura."

"And you," I offer, following them to the doors, where after a brief wave from Hanako, they turn right. Watching them disappear I feel my stomach rumbling, perhaps food wouldn't be that bad of an idea. _Give me something to do at least. _

With a last look back at the Ryouta-free library I set off to scavenge whatever the cafeteria has left.

—

"Go away!"

"I think you're blocking the doorway," I say sweetly, leaning against the handrail that runs the length of the corridor outside our classrooms.

Ryouta turns, and upon seeing his wheelchair-bound classmate trapped in the doorway steps aside, glowering at me as if I had held him in front of her. "I don't want to talk to you."

"I gathered," I say, following him as he charges away down the corridor.

"How did you mange to get out of class so early? That english teacher normally keeps you and _her _behind."

"Told her I wasn't feeling well. It's a bad week for me, she understood." I hope my joy at thinking up such a clever excuse and actually managing to catch Ryouta doesn't come across as gloating.

"Fine, but It was all for nothing, because I don't want to talk to you."

In front of us the lift doors open, admitting nearly a full load of students. "Hold the doors!" Ryouta shouts, sprinting the last ten feet or so with the grace of a baby hippo. Squeezing himself in, he turns to me, his eyebrows raised smugly. "Sorry, we're full," folding his arms in victory he lets the doors close in front of him.

_Really? _

The two flights of stairs are nearly empty as I make my way hastily down to the ground floor, even with only a mild violation of the no running in the corridors rule, I make it before the illuminated lift position indicator has even reached level one. _I take back everything I thought about Ryouta not being stupid. _

With a pronounced ding the doors slide smoothly open, inside Ryouta's look of triumph turns suddenly to shock. Apparently too stunned to move he stands in the doorway, until his classmate fed up with being kept waiting bumps his ankles with her wheelchair.

"Really?" I ask, as he steps out of the elevator, pacing slowly over to me. "You do know I'm on the track team right?"

"I always thought these things were fast," he grumbles, wandering towards the front doors, but making no effort to lose me.

"Well," I say as way of condolences, "I'm faster."

Grunting in response he follows me out into the grey afternoon. The rainclouds that have lingered all day, like some vast oppressive entity, stare down malevolently at us, threatening to drench us with the slightest provocation.

"Ikuno is really sorry you know," I say, jogging to keep up with his long strides.

Cheeks reddening he shrugs, quickening his pace.

"Come on, Ryouta, you know she didn't mean for this to happen." He leads me from the path and out across the grass, heading directly for the treeline, a small wood surrounds Yamaku on two sides, though I've never ventured within. _I don't think we are allowed in, but then again no one has directly said we're not._

"Planning to murder me in the woods?" I ask, only half joking.

"No." he snaps.

In silence we cross the lawns and weave between the trees, the air inside the wood seems colder somehow. leaves from last fall crunch under our feet as we trace a hitherto undisturbed path deep into the damp artificial twilight. Ryouta pushes through the foliage with grim determination.

After what feels like an age of walking we come to a stop in a clearing. I stop in my tracks. Dim light from the cloudy sky above filters through the trees, and where it hits the grounds delicate silver flowers shimmer, as if shivering in the cool air. Without asking permission I stride onto one of the naturally occurring paths, a light breeze drifts between the trunks, causing the trees to sing with the sound of a thousand tiny bells.

"Oh, Ryouta, it's beautiful."

"I know, I was going to bring Ikuno here," he says softly, his head hung.

"You still can," I mumble, bending to have a closer look at the flowers.

"She thinks I'm a joke."

"She loves you. She loves you, and she made a horrible mistake." I say, not looking up. It wasn't my place to reveal how Ikuno felt, but what choice do I have? _I can't let these two fall apart, it would be like burning this clearing to the ground. _

"I can't do it again, I can't, not like at middle school." Leaf litter crunches as he stamps his foot, his eyes catching mine from across the expanse of shimmering silver.

"It's the risk you take," I sigh. "Man up, Ryouta, if you love her, you'll fight."

"Yeah? So when are you going to man up Miki?"

His turnaround catches me off guard, I almost stumble as I stand. "What do you mean?"

"Ikuno told me you like Hisao, but I think you're too scared to admit it."

"How did…" I trail off as he speaks over me.

"If you want him, you need to tell him, before someone else does."

Saying nothing I turn away. How the hell has he made this about me? Still, he's right - girls circle around Hisao like sharks, and I have only one choice if I want something more. But the very thought is terrifying, it feels like the deepest of betrayals, how can I move on from Ayumu so quickly? _How can I love him, with what I've done? _

"Then you will talk to Ikuno?" I demand.

"I guess, you'll talk to Hisao." he says, just as defiantly.

"I guess."

We share a smile, across a sea of captured moonlight.


	22. Running Into You

I shouldn't laugh, not even giggle at this. Before me stands Hisao, in typical Yamaku gym kit, complete with tiny red shorts. He fidgets, trying to pull his t-shirt down further than the material will ever stretch. _Cute. _

"Hey, I didn't think you would come," I say, starting to stretch in the grass beside the track. Me and Emi both share a distaste for this particular pre-run ritual, but we've had enough strains to imprint in us it's importance.

"Sorry, It took me a while to find my gym kit…" he trails off, watching intently as I stretch my arms out behind my back, causing other assets of my anatomy to be thrust forward. _Well, at least Misha isn't the only one who can catch his eye. _

"You need to stretch, you know how to do that?" I say, delighted by the look on his face as I take away his view.

"Err, what? No, not really?" He stumbles over his words.

Giggling I stride over to him.

It's not long before I have him stretched out before me, his face curled up in discomfort but trying his best not to show it. In some evil way I feel like I'm channelling every coach and track captain I've ever had. It's all for Hisao's own good of course; but that doesn't stop it being fun.

"I don't think I'm going to be able to walk after this, yet alone run." He complains as I place my hand on his shoulder, helping him to loosen his calf.

"Don't be such a baby, you'll be fine." I laugh. "Right, that's you about done."

"The nurse said I should be doing light excise," he points out, following me towards the edge of the track.

"You've not done any exercise yet," I laugh, stepping onto the white starter line. I'm normally a lot less formal where I enter the track or even how much I stretch beforehand, but with my newfound role as a coach, it feels like I should be paying attention to these things. _Right, this is the track, you run on it, over there is the grass, that's where you throw up if you're going to. _

"So, just start at a gentle jog, tell me if you're going to keel over." I say, setting off at moderate pace.

Beside me Hisao hops into action, his mop of messy brown hair bouncing with every step, it's cute. _I like having him to myself. _In class I'm in constant competition for his attention against the student council, an atmosphere that has thus far prevented Hanako from joining us. Even Ikuno seems unsure how to react, but for me it feels like my old life, fighting off a harem of pretty girls to grab the momentary attention of some boy.

I wouldn't say I enjoy the cold war between Shizune and me, but I'm not about to back down. _If all else fails I can go full nuclear and kiss him in the middle of class; though the fallout from that could be impressive. _

"S…so you run… a… a lot?" Hisao asks beside me, doing his level best to control his uneven breathing.

"Six times a week, if not more," I shrug, turning to jog backwards next to him. _Don't fall over, don't fall over. _To my great satisfaction he looks suitably impressed.

"I'm never going to be able to keep up," he huffs, as we near the first bend. _His self-doubt is starting to grind. _

"No one ever suspects what they are capable of, until they do it." _Like manslaughter for example, don't think about it, don't think about it. _

"A… are you okay?" Hisao snaps me back to reality. "You s… seemed a million miles a… away."

He's breathing harder now, much harder. His face red with effort and perspiration, apparently the Nurse wasn't kidding when he said he needed some exercise.

"I'm fine," I say, slowing down. "You should walk for awhile, when you feel comfortable you can join me a few laps, yeah?"

Grinding to a halt he stops, pressing his hands into his knees.

"Hey!" I call back, turning briefly around to face him. "I said walk, not stop!"

Face twisted somewhere between rebellious and guilty he straightens, starting to pace slowly up the track. Turning I smile to myself. _Who said power wasn't fun? _

I fly past him, enjoying the wind in my hair and the feel of the dry track beneath my feet. At this pace I barely have to try, I can just enjoy the sensation and focus on the small details that help distract me, the slap of my trainers against the astroturf, the faint sound of birdsong on the blue sky, tinted with rose and ember.

By the next pass he has recovered enough to join me. Slowing I allow him to fall in beside me. With his eyes fixed on the track at his feet he misses the blazing smile I give him. _Ah well, his loss. _Gradually I increase my pace, looking for the point at which he will start to fall behind, but to my surprise he keeps up. _I knew he was more competitive than he looked. _

For a half a track length he stays on my tail, breathing hard but making good pace. "Ha, you're not as slow as you look!" I yell excitedly. With no response I check over my shoulder, Hisao has vanished. Coming to a stop I spot him down the track, on all fours, seeming to clutch his mouth. _Oh don't throw up, they will make me clean it! _

Jogging back to him I try and find the right teasing comment to taunt him with, but the statement gets caught in my throat as I get close enough to see the expression on his face; he's in agony. The hand that I thought he had clutched to his mouth, is in fact gripping the front of his shirt so tightly his knuckles have turned white.

"Hisao!"

Sitting back onto his calves, he looks at me. Red faced he wheezes hard, raising a hand as if to wave off any concerns I might be having. _What the hell? _Is this what's wrong with him? Whatever this is, what the hell am I supposed to do? _I should have done the voluntary first aid course in middle school. Why didn't I think it would be useful? _

"M… Miki, I'm… O…okay," Hisao says, though he looks far from it.

"You don't look okay, what should I do? I can run and get nurse." I offer, kneeling beside him.

"I… think, think I can.. walk, just, give... me a s… second," his words are forced out between gaps in his ragged breathing.

Feeling like a waste of skin and oxygen I wait until Hisao is ready to stand, unsurprisingly he's unsteady on his feet, and I dive under his arm to support him. The feeling of his sweaty armpit on my shoulder is disgusting to say the least, but I endure without complaint, as slowly we make our way to the medical centre.

— — —

"Arrhythmia?" I ask, not sure if I'm pronouncing it correctly.

On the white paper-covered bed in front of me Hisao nods. He seems much better now, but the nurse insists on him getting some rest.

"It's why I'm here, at Yamaku I mean." he says, looking at the nurse who rests his white lab-coated back against the wall, who nods in confirmation. "The light exercise was supposed to help."

"Well the power of good it did you," I glower, turning an accusatory eyebrow on the nurse.

"Light excise is needed to keep your heart healthy and your body in shape. Is there a chance you were overdoing it?" He asks, a small smile playing on his lips.

_How the hell can he turn this back around on Hisao? Then have the nerve to smile about it? _

"I might have-" Hisao looks guiltily at me, "Been trying to race her."

"You what?" I exclaim, "Did I tell you it was a race?"

"Well no, bu-"

"Did you know you had this heart thing?" I demand.

"Well yes, bu-"

"And you tried to scare me half to death anyway!" I'm almost shouting now. Infuriatingly the nurse is hiding his sniggers behind his hand, pretending to have a coughing fit.

"… I was the one having chest pains?" Hisao says in a very quiet voice.

"Well whose fault was that?" I ask, perhaps a little cruelly. To my alarm the corners of his mouth twitch as he looks down at the pristine white bedsheets spread across his legs, a touch of the darkly apologetic mood that's clung to him like a limpet since he started at Yamaku, creeping back onto his face.

"You're an idiot, next time we run I'm going to have to keep a much closer eye on you." I say, getting to my feet.

"Next time we run?" he asks, looking up curiously.

"Of course, you need to learn your limits, and I need to practice for the track meet," I smile sardonically, "You don't escape me that easily, Mr Nakai."

_Well, Ryouta did say to claim him, not sure he meant like this though. _

— — —

I feel drained as the nurse walks me to the front doors. I've gone from ecstatically happy to deathly afraid, all the way to monstrously angry in the space of about an hour. Now I just want to escape to bed... Well, a shower first, then bed, at least there should be some hot water at this time of night; unless Suzu has fallen asleep again and used a whole building's worth.

At the doorway I turn to the nurse. "This is your fault you know, you should have told me he had a heart condition."

Annoyingly he chuckles, "Firstly, even if I wanted to tell you, I couldn't and secondly Hisao is not a child, neither are you, part of our job at Yamaku is to prepare you for the real world."

"But, it could have happened again, and it would be my fault-" I catch myself before I can say any more. _Idiot. _

The nurse throws me a suspicious look, "What do you mean?"

"Nothing," I say quickly, "Good night."

"Hmmm, good night, Miss Miura," the nurse replies, not entirely convinced.

Without looking back I step out into the darkness, there's a chill in the air that my thin running clothes do little to protect me from, I hug my arms around my chest. _Damn it! _If i'm not more careful I'm going to end up letting out the biggest secret I've ever kept, the stakes are too high for such stupid mistakes. Admitting what happened in the truck was one thing, being discovered having lied... Well, I might as well kiss my future goodbye.

— — —

"_H… help!" I cry, struggling to breathe as the water in the crumpled truck cab starts to rise. _

_This feels too familiar, but I don't have time to worry about that now. I'm going to drown, and there's no one to help me!_

_As if responding to my thoughts a polished shoe kicks through the windscreen, attached to it is a handsome young man with messy brown hair. I expect him to go to Tatsuo, who by this point is well underwater, but instead he turns to me. _

"_I'm going to get you out okay? Just hang on!" His voice is soft, comforting, when he talks it feels like the rain outside falls that much softer. _

_Climbing into the cab as if its something he does on a daily basis, Hisao touches my arm, acting as if to pull me from the wreckage. The moment his fingers touch my wet skin I feel a warmth spread from my chest, to my toes. I can move again, it's as if a giant magnet has been turned off, freeing me. _

"_Come on!" Hisao says, splashing back through the broken windscreen. Outside the air is clear, the rain seems to have stopped, in fact it's hard to remember if there ever was a downpour, the ground around the crumpled black truck is bone dry. _

"_There," my saviour says with a wry smile, "That's much better isn't it?" _

_I nod emphatically, without quite understanding why, I reach out and stroke his cheek, the fingers of my left hand tracing the smooth contours of his face. It feels wrong, disobedient, like I'm doing something I'm definitely not allowed to, but I have no idea what. _

"_Miki, I love yo-" _

_His words are cut short, as a phantom hand reaches into his chest, the rest of the ghostly spectre forming behind him. My rescuer crumples to the ground, falling into my outstretched arms, his assailant solidifies before us; until I recognise the face. Ayumu. _

_With eyes tightly closed he surveys the scene, gazing, for lack of a better word, directly at Hisao. His face so kind and beautiful in my memory is curled in a feral snarl, seeming to imperceptibly pick up up on my staring he tilts his head, like a curious owl. Slowly, with agonising care he opens his eyes, his piercing, white, eyes. _

"_This is by your hand," he gestures to the boy in my arms, his voice gentle. _

_Dropping Hisao's now lifeless form I get to my feet. Shaking my head I slowly back away, until my back collides with the sharp wreckage behind me. Without warning a horn blares through the night, as a prison bus bursts from the darkness. _

_The last thing I see before my world goes black, is the silhouette of my own hand, held up hopelessly against the bus, as a pair of blazing headlights dive straight for me. _

For what feels like the millionth time I wake with a start, still holding my mutilated left arm out in front of me, braced against a bus that will never come. Sitting up I lean against the headboard, hugging my stump to my chest. It was whole, in the dream my hand was still there. Under my non-existent finger tips I can feel Hisao's soft face.

Pulling the multi-coloured elephant that Ayumu once won for me into my arms I try and picture him as I remember, without the glowing white eyes; it feels like the image has been seared into my mind. Like covering over a cherished tattoo with an abomination made of ink. Pressing my lips against my soft toy's trunk I reach for my phone, lying neatly on my beside table.

The clock reads 11:03, late, but not too late to call him.

Finding his number it takes me a few moments to build the courage to press the green dial button.

If he answers it will be the first time we've spoken in close to three and half months. With an effort like stepping off a bridge for a bungy jump, I press the button.

[Ayumu: Dialling…]

Appears on the screen, painfully bright in the dark room. Carefully, I place the phone against my ear, listening to the dialling tone.

"Hello..?" A startled female voice answers.

"H… Hello," I stammer pathetically, "I was trying to get hold of Ayumu?"

"He's busy at the moment," whoever this girl is says irritably.

"Who is it sweetie?" Ayumu's voice is muffled in the background, but I would recognise it anywhere.

"Look sorry, you'll have to call back."

She says no more. I can't be sure but what I imagine to be bed springs squeak in the background, before the line goes dead.

In silence I sit, just staring at the illuminated face of my phone, watching as the screen dims, before turning completely black. _How could he? _I want to scream, to yell, to punch something until it breaks. He moved on, of course he moved on, he was always going to. _I'm a stupid little girl who believed that we never truly ended, that if I was loyal everything would work out, like a fairy tale. _

Filled with a sudden uncontrolled rage I send the elephant spiralling across the room, to smash the lamp from my desk. It falls with a satisfying crash and a flutter of papers. Good, the world can burn for all I care. The hot tears on my face feel like a betrayal. How can I possibly cry over him? In one motion I turn to my pillow, screaming until my throat starts to burn, hoping the cotton is enough to hide my cry of despair.

Someone shakes my shoulder. With a squeal of fright burning my already raw throat I spin around, staring up at Ikuno; who stands before me wide-eyed. In one hand she holds her music player, tinny music still ringing out from the ear buds, and in the other is my spare room key. _I was hoping not to wake her, damn it… _

"Miki? Whats wrong?"

"The normal," I sigh, trying to sound convincingly scared and confused, not something I normally have to strive for.

"What happened to your desk?"

I shrug, looking away.

"Miki Miura, don't make me climb in there!" she giggles.

_Wait. _

She's in a good mood? Or a least a good enough mood to be joking and giggling, that's an interesting development.

"Climb away," I grumble, shifting myself in bed so my best friend can clamber in beside me. _Ha, I should send a photo to Ryouta. _Resting my head on her slightly bony shoulder I wait for her to speak, content to watch the ethereal clouds drift across the moon.

"So, what happened to the desk?" She looks down at me, "And your elephant for that matter."

"I lost my temper," I divulge grudgingly.

"Why?" she asks with only mild concern. _Cheerful people are a delight when you're also a good mood, when you're not, though, they are the most grating people on the planet. _

"Not that I'm complaining, but why are you in such a good mood?"

"Ryouta spoke to me!" she squeals, hugging one of my pillows to her chest.

I raise my eyebrows slightly, so he decided to man up after all. "What did he say?"

"Okay."

"Excuse me?"

"I text him, for like the hundredth time, I just asked if he still felt anything for me to text back anything; and he texted back 'okay'." In the window's reflection I can see her smile, showing off her dazzlingly white teeth, an effect I'm sure isn't entirely natural.

It's testament to Ikuno's love or perhaps naivety, that she can find so much joy in such a short and simple message. I had hoped my little woodland prep talk might inspire more dramatic results, but slow progress is progress still; and if it means Ikuno might not be so down in the dumps all the time that's good enough for me.

"I phoned Ayumu," I say, fully aware of the effect it will have on the mood. _And not caring one little bit. _

"What did he say?"

"Not much, his new girlfriend said he was busy." I continue sombrely.

"New girlfriend?" Ikuno asks, taken aback.

I reply with a nod.

"Well that would explain the flying elephant," she says in wonderment.

I can't help but laugh at her ridiculous statement, and a few uncertain seconds later Ikuno joins me, gigging softly. _Apparently not even my boy problems are enough to put her in a bad mood tonight. I suppose that's good. _

"Are you okay?" she asks, her voice soft and caring. Shifting slightly on the bed she puts a warm arm around my shoulders.

"No," I say, snuggling into her side. "But I will be."

My grandfather used to say knowing is half the battle, well I know now, I know Ayumu can no longer hold me back. I loved him, but I realise he never felt the same and I was an idiot for holding on for so long. I snuggle closer to Ikuno, content to let some of her new found happiness flow into me.

_Perhaps Ryouta is right, I should have hooked up with Ikuno when I had the chance, she's comfortable. _


	23. Glorious Victory (At last!)

"That was two seconds slower," Ryouta calls, staring at his phone.

_What? No that's impossible. _

"W… what?" I pant, hands on my knees, trying to force air into my protesting lungs. _Step it up boys, I only need one of you… I think. _

"Oh, no wait, it's nought point two seconds slower." Ryouta declares, with the air of someone who has just cracked an incredibly difficult riddle.

This is the fourth day in a row spent training for Sundays track meet, ignoring the captains imperative for a balanced approach. I've decided to beat Emi at all and any costs. To this end I must have run the four hundred metre sprint about fifty times, working to perfect every step from start to finish.

A pounding of feet draws my attention. Jogging up behind me, Hisao takes my lack of obvious activity as a signal to slow down. I don't mind, the last thing I want is my, now official, running partner having a heart attack; again.

"Ever get the feeling your friends are idiots?" I ask, glancing to where Ryouta lays, his chubby face turned to the sky.

"N.. no comment," he pants, following my gaze.

"The screen on this thing is hard to read. Anyway, you're just grumpy that you were slower than last time." Ryouta calls, not bothering to address us directly. Since his world-shattering revelation that he might still like Ikuno, as if that was a surprise, nothing has really happened between them. He seems to be waiting for something, but I have no idea what.

With a resigned sigh I trudge back to the starting line, a now familiar ritual. Beside me Hisao has managed to get his breathing back under control.

"I need to head off soon," he says softly, as the wind whips up the trees into rustling around us. The sun is on its way to set, but for now the dimming blue sky is holding on, like some stranded survivor of a ship wreck.

"Student council again?" I ask, trying to act nonchalant, but having to look away to disguise my disappointment.

"Yeah, sorry." He yawns into his hand, "We're having to work like dogs to get everything ready for the track meet."

"But, you're still coming to watch on Sunday right?"

He nods, wiping his sweaty brow on the back of his hand. Over the last week he's improved at a steady pace and seems to be enjoying running, or at least watching me stretch before we run. _I've not yet decided. _

"You're coming out for lunch after, right?" I ask tentatively, he's already said yes, but I can totally see Shizune conspiring to mess it up somehow. It's not just paranoia, group work in class has developed into less of a cold war, and more a tug of war, using Hisao as the rope.

"Wouldn't miss it, see you later Miki," he smiles, a warm honest smile, before heading back to school and a pile of paperwork. _Those two girls must be doing something very special to make that appealing. _

Shaking the thought of Shizune and Misha waiting in their underwear for Haiso to save them from a mountain of budget reports. I take my place on the starter line, signalling to Ryouta that I'm ready. With sluggish motions he raises his stump, my whole body tenses as his thin extremity starts to fall.

I burst forward the moment his arm hits his knee, looking up to find the school bag that marks the midway point on the other side of the oval track. _That is my goal, I will not stop until I reach it, nothing else matters. _

About halfway down the track my limbs start to burn, ran ragged from days of steady abuse. I ignore them. Emi is right behind me I tell myself, she's going to overtake, I have to go faster! _Twenty meters to go. _I can do this, nought point two seconds be damned. With a last heave of effort I throw my chest forward, crossing the line with my heart thundering in my ears.

_That had to be faster! _

Without even looking at Ryouta I fall onto my knees, before flipping onto my back, the cool ground feeling pleasantly squishy against my sweat soaked vest. The roaring in my ears starts to slowly ebb away as I stare at the infinite sky above me, I almost want to tell my friend to leave me, to let me enjoy this moment of joyous exhaustion.

"Are you dead?" Ryouta calls conversationally.

Sitting up I wince, the lactic acid not quite having deserted my legs yet. "Not yet; time?"

"Almost a second faster, so nearly as good as what you managed four days ago." with exaggerated effort he gets to his feet. "Is getting progressively slower some kind of secret runner training method?"

"Gah!" I exclaim loudly, punching the astroturf in annoyance. It's completely unfair, I mean yes I'm not really sleeping, with nightmares as confusing and unsettling as mine, not to mention a ghost hand, who could? At the mere thought my left hand starts to warm uncomfortably, clearly not to be outdone by the stinging in my fist. I just want to scream.

"Hey, you still with me?" Ryouta asks, suddenly very close.

Looking up I nearly knock my nose against his outstretched hand, offering me help up. "I'm fine, just don't like getting worse at things." Gladly I accept his help, rising to my feet. I will feel better after a hot shower and some food. I might even sleep tonight. _Though I'm not counting on it. _

"Well, I'm sure it will all pay off on Sunday right?"

I shrug unconvinced.

"I could always break her legs for you, if it helps?"

"She doesn't have legs," I grumble, feeling like I'm about to be pulled into one of his mad conversations. Yet, I feel unable, or perhaps unwilling, to do anything about it; at the very least it might cheer me up. _Let's see where this is going._

"She does, it's just they're not always attached."

"You know, in some social circles joking about damaging a crippled girls prosthetic legs would get you a lot of flack," I say, as we head back to the dormitories side by side.

"Who said anything about joking?" He grins. "Anyway when it's cripple vs. cripple it's fair game."

"Those are the rules, huh?"

"Yep, the unwritten ones, haven't you ever read them?" His mock serious face cracks as I raise my eyebrow. Our laughter rings out through the grounds. It feels strangely cleansing.

"So," Ryouta says, sidestepping a lost-looking first year. "Ikuno is definitely coming to lunch after the track meet?"

"Yeah, and so are you, don't you dare try and wiggle out of this Ryouta Kuromizu, or so help me I'll take the other hand," I give him my best impression of a threatening look. Unknown to him this lunch date has been planned and re-planned about eight times at last count, Ikuno who has taken it upon herself to form a sort of nightly dream patrol, is using our time not sleeping to strategize. _There have been military raids and bank heists with less organisation behind them. _

"Of course I am, but you'll be there right?"

"Well, given it's supposed to be to celebrate my glorious victory I would hope so."

"Oh good," he says, stopping outside the boys dormitories, "I didn't want it to just be me and Ikuno, not the first time we meet again."

"What are you expecting me to do? You're both adults aren't you?"

"Moral support, it's important."

Giving him a despairing look I grin. Despite his claims of not needing anyone, Ryouta is just as anxious as his girlfriend. I suppose I've been the catalyst in their relationship, unintentionally of course. Would they have even got together without me? I don't want to think about myself as being important in someone else's life, but it seems unlikely they would have gone past being friends. _Yet another reason I need to keep myself away from a cell. _

"As long as you're not expecting me to be there when you re-consummate this thing," I grin, rocking back on the balls of my feet.

Ryouta's eyes seem to become strangely glazed over, "hypothetically if I could get Ikuno on board-"

"No!" I laugh, giving him a light shove to get his mind out of the gutter.

"Right, right, fair enough, never hurts to check!" With a bright smile he starts to back peddle up the steps, "Goodnight Miki!"

"Night," I call, as still grinning he walks into his dorm. _For all his faults, I'm glad he turned around on that lonely hill. _

— — —

"You better know what you're doing."

Growling by my ear the track captain sounds somewhat like a hive of angry bees, swerving away. I glower at him, and for a few intense moments we compete in a battle of wills, until he looks down. For all his endless prep talks and empty threats the captain really does have the best interests of the team at heart, unfortunately my one-sided vendetta against Emi rather screws with his plans.

"Fifth? How did you manage to do that badly, it's like you weren't even trying!" He says in a hushed whisper.

"I'm sorry, I will do better in the next race." Without waiting for an answer I wander off to find a spot in the sparse shade. It's noon, and the sun is high in the cloudless sky. Leaving the captain to grumble behind me I search the stands. Hisao, Ikuno and Ryouta should be in there somewhere, perhaps my grandfather as well, though I've not heard from him in months.

It's a shame my parents couldn't be here, I suppose, painful as it is to admit, I've always been envious of people who have their parents show up to stuff like school plays or sports days. The lack of support simply highlighted how different I was from classmates. Then again I never had a telling off in front of my whole class. _Silver linings and all that. _

Dad did phone this morning, and it was nice to hear his voice, as well as some long overdue encouragement. But I couldn't help but be distracted by how fragile he sounded, or the way he simply trailed off, forgetting what he had said only a moment before. I think he's sick. _No. _I know he's sick, but he's too stubborn to see a doctor, my merest suggestion would bring about an abrupt change in subject. _I guess I might be overreacting, he's behaving the exact way I would. _

The roar of the crowd draws my attention, the boys must have just fished, and by the sound it secured another win for Yamaku. Getting unsteadily to my feet I start to head to the starting line, the girls' four hundred meters is up next. I chance a sideways glance at the track captain, who gives me a stern, yet desperate look. _This is his last chance for glory, same as mine. _

Emi throws me a warm smile as we take our positions. Fidgeting I try and find a comfortable starting position, everything feels wrong, my clothes seem to dig into my flesh, and the sun burns unnaturally hot on my back. _Relax, just relax. _This must be how people who care about such things feel before a test, I need to win.

_At least this time I don't have to wear those damn shorts. _

Even in my leggings I feel exposed, with my backside stuck in the air it's hardly the most flattering of positions, I wonder if Hisao is watching? Despite everything my cheeks start to warm. _Stupid mesmerising distraction. _

"On your marks."

I fix my eyes on the fluttering tape and beautifully, magically, the noise of the crowd dims around me. _That is my goal.. _

"Get set!"

The sun glints off a raised starters pistol, somewhere in the void on either side of the track. _I will not stop until I reach it… _

"Go!"

_Nothing else matters. _

I launch off the mark, everything from the wind in my hair to the track beneath my feet feels perfect - like the world and I have come to a temporary understanding. Beside me Emi pours on the speed, the strange muffled clatter of her prosthetics against the track picking up a faster rhythm. _One hundred meters down. _

I slow, allowing Emi to move in beside me. Long experience has taught me her usual practice is to keep race pace until the very last stretch of track, then claim victory with a killer sprint. _Not this time. _Increasing my pace gradually we pass the two hundred metre mark. My opponent is like an atom bomb, ready to burst forth with energy. But here, mid race my longer legs have the advantage. _All I need to do is have more energy left at the sprint than she does. _

Side by side we burn past the three hundred meter mark, I have no idea how close any of our competitors are, they hardly seem to matter anymore. Twisting and turning less than a hundred meters in front of me, the white tape seems to glimmer, to my right the crowd builds up an excited crescendo. _Wait for it, wait for it. _

With a grunt Emi explodes into her sprint, but I'm ready, I feel a smile touch my face as I do the same. Throwing everything I have into my legs I burn away, all the pain, all the worry, everything; it doesn't matter. Not here, not now. _Emi is still behind, by the merest fraction. _But it's enough, I lunge towards the tape, feeling its tension hold me for less than a second before breaking through and sinking to my knees.

Heart beating rapidly I'm assaulted with a sudden wave of sound and colour as the world falls back around me, as if I've just pushed my head above the waters of a very deep ocean. _I did it, I won. _Beside me, Emi lays on her back, chest rising and falling, her eyes closed.

"G… good r… run," I pant, my lungs screaming for air while my throat complains of dryness.

"Y.. yeah," Emi says, similarly exhausted.

Rising to my feet I turn to the crowd, who reward me with a thunderous boom of applause, something really rather rare just happened, and the Yamaku students at least, know it. Lifting my arms above my head, so my stump is clearly on view, an action that would have made me feel sick a year ago, I drink in the cheers. _I could get used to this. _

Soon enough my moment is over, and I wander back to the rest of the track team with Emi, who's almost subdued by her normal standards. At first I thought it was because she was in shock, the possibility that she could have lost rocking her to her core, but I don't think thats the case. Every now and then she missteps, letting out the very tiniest gasp of pain, she's injured something, and I hope it's not because of me.

"Are you okay?" I ask, taking a sip from a refreshingly cool bottle of water.

"Yeah, I'm fine." She replies a little too quickly, "I'm still the fastest thing on no legs, you know!"

I shake my head, there's a running theme today of people being too stubborn to admit they're in pain. If we were better friends I would say something, insist she see the nurse, but that's unlikely to go down well. _I don't know for sure, but I think she sees concern and pity in the same light. _I just hope it didn't effect her race either, selfish as it is, I hope I won fair and square.

"True," I agree, meeting her eyes, "Most of the time anyway."

"Awwww, thats so mean!" She giggles. Damn it, even after all this time, her pout is still adorable.

— — —

"You did well," Hisao says, "Well, I mean, you did really well, uh."

_Ha, is he flustered?_

"Thanks," I reply, admiring for umpteenth time the shining gold medal I won today, it's beautiful, even if it is a little lonely when compared to Emi's chest full of ornaments. _I noticed her silver was carefully hidden behind too golds, ha. _Ahead of us on the smooth black road Ikuno and Ryouta stroll, an awkward distance between them. She throws me a small smile, that I return, trying to convey reassurance with a look.

"So, you look tired," I say as way of conversation. It's true, he has deep bags under his eyes, which are bloodshot making them appear even redder than normal. I can't look much better. Sleep eludes me as much as anyone else, it's just that Ikuno introduced me to the miracle of concealer. _Not that I would ever wear makeup for a boy, but nothing's stopping me using it for myself. _

"I can't sleep sometimes" he says, stifling a well timed yawn.

"And here was me thinking you were up all night dreaming about me," I grin. A light gust flows up the baking road, a welcome relief in the mid-afternoon sun, it plays with my hair still damp from the shower; cooling my neck.

"There's that too," Hisao blushes.

_Well it's either a blush or the beginnings of heat stroke. _

"Oh, I forgot to say, I joined the student council, but I made sure I'm free for our runs." He smiles, as if this was a throwaway comment; small talk.

So, she won? I mean she has to have if he's joined her stupid council, but then why is he with me today? So he doesn't lose his running partner, well I won't be for much longer if he's planning to hook up with that deaf bitch. Assuming it's her he wants, I can't see Misha getting a look in with that blue haired control freak running the show. _Damn it! _

"Right.." I say looking out over the hills so he can't see the expression on my face, I can't believe he would do this too me.

"Are you okay?" He asks, his voice edged with concern.

"Yeah, just didn't realise you enjoyed the council so much." I can feel my face burn, and it has nothing to do with the blazing sun.

"Well, it's interesting most of the time, and gives me something to do right?" he sounds slightly confused, as if he wasn't expecting this reaction?

"I guess," I shrug as the road starts to level out. The town lies before us, sprawled at the bottom of the valley, like water pooled in a puddle. Looking like the front cover of a tourist handbook the settlement is a mix of old and new, with shopfronts artfully cut into the front of aged houses, their bright signs glimmering in the sunlight.

Beside me Hisao lets out an astonished breath, I can't blame him, I normally only come here at night, when the town is asleep and you feel as if you are intruding on private property just walking to the convenience store. In the sunlight, with windows thrown wide, the town is the very image of a warm welcome.

However all of this seems to be lost on Ikuno and Ryouta, who have eyes only for each other. _Ha, knew it wouldn't take much to get them back together. _The four of us stroll towards the shanghai, the small coffee shop popular with students and town residents alike. Luckily the Cafe is on the Yamaku end of town, not that being on the other side of town would have made for a much longer walk, but my legs are aching in protest at today's rough treatment.

A small bell dings cheerly above the door as we step into the Shangai, the cozy wood panelled booths the same as I remember them and a strong smell of coffee permeating the air, in my mind this is what France is like.

"Welcome to the Shangai!" The waitress bursts, shattering the serenity of the otherwise empty establishment, with a bow so low she just narrowly misses smashing her head on a table. _What the hell? _

"Afternoon Yuuko," Hisao and Ikuno say in unison.

_Wait. They know this flustered waitress. _

Ryouta and I share a confused look, but follow our companions' lead and smile politely.

"Sit wherever you like, I will be with you shortly, please!" Before anyone can answer she scampers to what I assume is the kitchen, I imagine to have some kind of panic attack.

"You know her?" I ask as we take our window seats, Hisao and I on one side of the table, the lovebirds on the other.

"Yeah? She's works in the library at Yamaku," Ikuno says as if it's obvious.

"Oh," I grin slightly as something clatters in the kitchen, "I don't think I've seen her all the times I've been there."

"How many times have you been there?" asks Ryouta, a smirk playing on his otherwise nervous face.

"Once," I say with a smile.

"Miki!" Ikuno scolds, "You are meant to be taking final exams this year."

"And…?"

"You should be utilising the school facilities, like Hisao and I." She nods to Hisao who looks up quickly having been forced into the conversation.

Though not exactly friends, Ikuno and my distraction are on good terms, given the number of times I drag him into group work. I think she likes having someone who understands the subject matter as well as her, and I like being able to sneak answers off the two smartest people in class. _Win, win. _

"I like reading anyway," Hisao says quickly, sitting up a little straighter, "But, if you want someone to study with... other than Ikuno, I mean."

Again he blushes, and this time in the cool interior of the cafe it can't be heat stroke, he's definitely still interested. _In what remains to be seen though. _

"No, I-" I begin to say, but a loud voice interrupts.

"What can I get for you? I'm sorry I forgot my apron, and when I was getting it I knocked everything flying, please don't tell my manager!" Yuuko says in one long breath, standing before us rather pale. Her hair has escaped from the tight bun on her head. Not that I've ever had a job, but this one doesn't seem like one that would cause this much stress.

Copying Ryouta's order for tea and cake, out of compassion for Yuuko's stress levels more than than actual desire. _Though I can't say i've ever had a day become worse because I ate cake, so it's hardly a hardship. _

With our haphazard waitress dispatched I return to Hisao, "Sorry, I was going to say I don't have anyone to study with."

Across the table Ikuno throws me a fierce look. _Oh come Ikuno, you know you're always the study buddy for me, but this is Hisao. _Seeming to realise what I'm up to she shakes her head and returns to her discussion with Ryouta; apparently in their separation they have fallen behind in the world of English television and cinema.

"It's no problem if you want to study with me, I mean I'm going to be doing it anyway," Hisao smiles softly, "I owe you right?"

_I think I owe him for all his fine distracting work, but best not give him an unnecessary upper hand if I can avoid it. _

"Well, I wouldn't go that far, but some homework help might be useful. I have a feeling my friend is going to be distracted." I point with my thumb over to Ryouta and Ikuno, who are feeding each other cake and staring deep into each others eyes. Hisao and I share a raised eyebrow, before turning to our own plates of cake.

"We can do that," Hisao nods, wiping at his face with a napkin. "What subjects are you have problems with?"

_All of them. _

"Maths and science mostly," I say, using a truly monumental level of self control to take a lady like bite of moist fluffy cake.

"Those I can definitely help with, hmmm." He takes another mouthful of cake, chewing thoughtfully, "I may have to figure it out with Shizune, but I think I can help you on the days when you don't have a track club meeting, or doctor's appointment."

_He can't honestly believe I see a hand doctor can he? I doubt it. But I appreciate the respect for my privacy; patient-patient confidentiality is the best way to describe it. _

"That should be okay," I say softly trying not to be too distraught at the sudden realisation of how much extra school work I'm letting myself into. _And I won't be able to guess my way through it like I normally do, I'm going to have to put the effort in. I can't have Hisao thinking I'm a total idiot._

"We run straight after right?" I ask.

"Of course," he laughs, his lips curling into a soft smile, "Seems like we are going to be spending a lot of time together."

"Well, we can invite the lovebirds as well," I blush nodding towards Ryouta and Ikuno, whose heads are so close I'm surprised their hair hasn't knotted together. _I knew, or at least I hoped it wouldn't take much to get them back together. _Though I have a bad feeling that unless they can learn to properly communicate history is bound to repeat itself.

Hisao nods, taking another small bite of cake._ Does he always eat like this? Why have I never watched him eat before? _Because if he's making an effort for me, that means something right?

"I don't mind if it's just you and me," Hisao says, his cheeks redding. "I mean," he hesitates, "If the others are busy."

I bob my head in acknowledgement, a mouth full of cake and a million thoughts flying around my head. Is he saying that he wants to spend time with me? Or is it all innocent and I'm just rushing to conclusions?

By some kind of strange mutual agreement we return to comfortable silence and what remains of our cake. Ikuno and Ryouta completely oblivious to what did - or possibly didn't - just happen.

_My two friends seem back on track and I finally beat Emi, but Shizune's war is far from over and the allegiance of the boy sitting next to me is more of a mystery than ever. _


	24. Defeat?

"Morning," I yawn, falling into step beside Hisao, who is both more awake and decidedly more punctual than I am. In my defence I'm still not sleeping properly and with Ikuno spending so much time with Ryouta after school hours, I'm trapped all alone at night.

_I could invite Hisao over for a perfectly innocent sleepover? _

"You're late again," he says, raising an eyebrow as he checks the time on his phone.

"S… sorry," I yawn, doing a reasonable impression of Suzu. "I bet you're one of these people who are really cheerful in the mornings."

We join the stream of people winding their way through the already warm morning air to the main building, it's been unbearably hot the last few days, summer - a distant dream at the start of the year - is now well and truly upon us.

"I try to be cheerful all the time," Hisao says, hoisting his satchel a little higher onto his shoulder. "But to be honest I didn't sleep well last night... It's too hot."

How Ryouta and Ikuno are managing to share a bed I have no idea, mine is so hot and sticky that I'm tempted some nights to go and sleep under a cool shower; I don't think it's necessarily a bad idea. _But knowing my luck I would drown halfway through the night. _

"Well, join the club." I grimace.

"Well I'm already an honorary member of the anti feminist defence league or whatever it is."

Oh goodie, another hallmate story. With Ikuno distracted by her boyfriend for the past week I've been walking to school with Hisao. _I still have no idea how she manages to sneak out of the boys dorms and beat me to class._ Normally our morning walks involve him regaling me with funny tales of his apparently mad hallmate, though this morning his voice is tinged with frustration.

"What's he done this time?" I ask innocently, as if I really don't care if he tells me or not. _Though I think he sees right through me. _

"He went on a secret supply run," he groans, "At four in the mourning."

"Well, it's hardly secret if you do it mid-afternoon," I say reasonably.

"It was hardly top secret after his bag split and he woke me up to help him clear up."

I start to chuckle, "Well, at least he trusts you with his important secrets."

"I wish he wouldn't," my running partner complains

We cut across the yellowing grass making straight for the main building. It's amazing how much I've started to take its unique western style for granted; there's probably nowhere else like Yamaku in the whole of Japan.

"You know," I say as we step into the lobby, sunlit and clinically clean as always, "I want to meet this hallmate of yours, he sounds fun."

"Firstly," Hiaso replies, wary of the hurrying crowd. "He is not mine, and secondly he might not leave his room for weeks if he finds out I hang around with a girl."

"So I'm just some girl am I?" I gasp, in mock outrage as we hit the stairs.

"You're one of them," he says without batting an eyelid. _Well played Hisao, well played. _

"Well, just remember which of your female admirers is going to run you into the ground."

He snorts in laughter, the change in his demeanour seems to have happened as subtly as the seasons, yet with no less drastic results. Though still prone to bouts of dreamy middle distance staring he's started to care, to take interest in school and the people who inhabit it. _It would be childish of me to claim full credit - I'm happy with eighty percent. _

"I just hope you remember who's tutoring you,' he grins as we slowly wander up the next flight. Even here he's improving. Before he would be red faced and wheezing, now he takes the stairs in his stride.

"If you ever escape the student council." I try and keep the annoyance out of my voice, I'm not sure it worked.

"Yeah, sorry about that, I hope things quiet down soon," he grimaces, "Ikuno being away so much doesn't help."

_Can't say that I blame her, I would take Ryouta over Shizune any day of the week._

I shrug, "She will be back when she's ready."

Ikuno is in her seat when we enter the classroom, already feeling stuffy despite the windows being thrown wide open; the heat today is going to be murderous.

I say my farewells to Hisao. Regardless of the fact we are in the same class, once he's with Shizune she will cling on to him for as long as she can. We share a contemptuous look across the heads of our classmates, before I drop down at my desk, very purposely showing her my back.

"She's not so bad you know," Ikuno observes, looking up from her open textbook. _Studying before a teacher has even arrived has to be some kind of crime. _

"Have you seen the way she looks at me?" I ask, folding my arms on the desk to form a makeshift pillow.

"You mean the same way you look at her?" My best friend grins, marking her place and closing the book.

"Yeah, well, she started it."

We both share a laugh. It's great to see her so happy again, even if it's at the expense of her company. Though, I can't imagine I'm the most attentive friend at the moment. I like Hisao, I like him enough for something more than friendship. _The problem is how to tell him. _

Before I can think any more on the subject, Miss Mizushima walks into the room, her high heels clicking on the hard wooden floor. _Gah, maths first thing, now that has to be against the law. _Unfortunately unlike dreamy Mutou our mathematics teacher is keen and alert - a downside if you want to try and hold a conversation.

_Still, no harm in trying. _

— — —

"I can't believe she kept me behind!" I complain, sitting down beneath the pastel green leaves of my favourite tree, it's still unbearably hot despite the shade the branches provide.

"Well you had it coming to be fair."

"I agree," adds Ryouta, his arms wrapped around Ikuno, as they nestle in my spot against the trunk. How those two can cuddle in this heat staggers me, then again I suppose they are used to being hot and sticky at night. _No, dirty mind, stop that._

"You weren't even there," I grumble, loosening my tie and undoing the top few buttons of my shirt, not an altogether easy operation with one hand.

"It's not hard to imagine you as a troublemaker Miki," Ryouta grins, "That and my sweetie told me."

"Your what?" I glower at the pair of them, pet names? _Really? _

"Ryouta!" Ikuno squeals, her cheeks reddening. I've made an awful mistake, these two being depressed was far less cringe worthy. _At least he's not started calling her Ikuchan._

"Sorry Miki, my loudmouth boyfriend was just leaving to get us lunch," she wiggles forward, waiting for him to extricate himself from behind her.

"I was?" He asks, getting confusedly to his feet.

"Yes, now shoo and don't come back until you find us something tasty!" Ikuno giggles, winking at me as without complaint Ryouta trudges toward the cafeteria. I feel a little bad making a one armed boy fetch three lunches, but then I remember who that boy is and suddenly I'm fine with it.

"So, when's he meeting the parents?" I ask, vamoosing Ikuno from my spot.

Far from complaining, she just sits cross legged in the hot grass, awkwardly quiet. _Oh what on earth has she done now. _How can one of the smartest people I know give off the constant impression she has no clue what she's doing?

"Please tell me you've at least told him they want to meet him?" I plead exasperatedly.

"I want to, I do," she replies defensively. "It's just I have no idea how to set up a meeting that isn't going to be super awkward."

_Just have your boyfriend show up uninvited at your parents house and insist you share a bed, worked for me. _

"Hmm, how well did not telling him go last time?"

"I know, I know," she sighs, slackening the black ribbon around her neck and loosening her collar. Her face is red, though from heat or embarrassment I can't be sure.

"Can't you just invite him over sometime during summer?" I ask, picking at my bandages. In this heat it feels like wearing a woollen sock on my stump, making the skin itchy and uncomfortable. I suppose I could go without them, but that's a scary thought and not a welcome one in a head already full of worry.

"Just tell him you want to show him your pony or something," I grin, a thought suddenly springing to the forefront of my mind, "You could get an extra one for him, then go on romantic pony rides on the beach."

"Miki, you're a genius" Ikuno cries excitedly.

"I know," I grin, "You could call them moon and stars, or magic and mischief, those are good pony names."

"No, not with the ponies," she scoffs, "About Ryouta and summer."

An image of the two of them spending the summer in one of her family's opulent homes flashes across my mind, sending a bolt of jealousy to stab at my gut, which is ridiculous given I suggested it. _I guess I just don't want to lose her, not on top of Ayumu._

"So when are you asking Hisao out?" She asks conversationally, withdrawing the small black case containing her blood test supplies, from her satchel.

"How did you know about that?" I sit up a little straighter, trying to give off the impression that this is a throwaway question of no real significance; judging by her smile I don't think its working.

"Ryouta told me," she replies simply.

"Oh." I try and think back to the clearing in the woods, the day after the disastrous festival, I wonder if he told her everything that was said across the silver flowers.

"Did he say anything else?" I ask.

Ikuno focusses an undue amount of attention on her blood sampling device, her cheeks reddening slightly. "He said you told him I loved him," she says softly.

I gulp. Okay, well if she was mad about this she would have said something before right? Either that or she's been sitting on it, waiting for the perfect moment to rip the rug out from under my feet. _Who could blame her. _I bite my bottom lip, trying desperately to find the appropriate response.

"I'm sorry?" I try tentatively.

Ikuno nods thoughtfully, though whether it's at the result on her device or my statement its hard to tell. "I'm glad you told him, I'm not sure I would have had the courage to tell him myself."

"I'm sure you would have…" trailing off before I dig a hole I might not be able to climb out of, "I'm not sure I have the courage to ask Hisao," I admit.

"You asked Ayumu though?"

"Well, yeah," I wince, his name stings, "But that was before Ayumu."

I don't think I could survive another betrayal like that, as pathetically melodramatic as that sounds. His actions should be secondary to the death I caused, but the accident seems so far away, half healed and faded; Ayumu feels more real. _Am I a bad person for feeling this way? I would be deceiving myself if I said no. _

"It will be okay Miki, Hisao's sweet and you'll be leaving school together this time right?"

"Right, I guess, it's just-"

"Food time!" Ryouta cuts me off, carrying a staggering variety of drinks and snacks in his mismatched arms. I don't think any of it really counts as food, but it looks tasty.

"So," he says, sitting down on the grass with the grace of a baby elephant, "What were you girls talking about?"

"Oh nothing," Ikuno and I say together, bursting into giggles as we tuck in to our lunchtime feast.

— — —

"You're getting better," I say as Hisao and I complete our sixth lap under the sinking sun, we don't normally run this late, but Hisao had student council business; I would be lying if I said the time spent waiting for his text didn't drag.

"T.. thanks," he pants, his cheeks flushed.

"Think you can handle two more laps?" I ask with a grin, not yet out of breath.

He nods in return, putting on a small burst of speed that I'm quick to catch up with.

I'm surprised by how much I enjoy running with him, far from being a burden his presence has made me more committed than ever to keeping up a steady routine and being able to see his improvement with each passing day is its own reward. _This is something I never could have shared with Ayumu. _

"One more to go!" I announce as our shoes thud across the astroturf, the only sound in the still air.

Despite the scare from our first run his heart hasn't given him any problems, something i'm immensely grateful for. Even with the first aid book Dr Udea lent me, i'm not sure I could handle that situation. _Plus mouth to mouth recitation is scarily close to kissing._

Hisao cheers as we cross the line, perhaps a little sarcastically, but hey this is the first time he has run six laps; so it might be genuine.

"Right, sprint time", I say, as he slows to a walk. He goes to say something, but the sudden rush of being able to throw everything into the simple act of moving forward renders me oblivious.

_It's nice to let go. _

I don't know if he can perceive a difference between when I run at his pace and when I truly let go, I kinda hope he does. _I don't think I mind him seeing all of me. _Though I doubt he would understand, the only one who might is Emi - and even that's only a suspicion.

After a few hard sprints I slow to walking pace beside him, breathing hard but with a grin plastered all over my reddened face, my joy seems to be infectious, because he grins too.

"Have fun?" He asks.

"A… always!" I wheeze.

We walk in a comfortable silence, interrupted only occasionally by bursts of birdsong. _I wish we had more interesting birds than pigeons at home. _

"Did you hear what I said before?" Hiaso asks, his face falling slightly.

"That you can't wait to have a shower then come hang out with us for movie night?" I ask hopefully, guessing this probably isn't the answer. Our plans for movie night were far from concrete, I asked him on the spur of the moment at the end of class, but he wouldn't turn a sweaty girl down right?

_I mean, what could be more fun than sitting in a hot dark room watching some awful American action movie with a girl who secretly likes you? _

"I would if I could, but Shizune says she needs me back at the student council, we have a lot on."

"Oh," I say, crestfallen. If he had homework that would have been fine, hell even if he just wanted to get an early night that's understandable. But to go back to that _bitch _time and time again, he must be going out with her, she must have already asked him. And I bet he said yes, or wrote it down at least, the _bastard_.

_My heart starts to thunder in my chest, screw him if it's her he wants, it's her he gets. _

"Fine," I snap, starting to walk away at a brisk pace. _I'm an idiot, my only boyfriend was blind, that should have told me something. _

"Hey!" he calls after me, and I hear his trainers in the grass as he runs to keep up, "What's your problem?" he demands, just feet behind me, his voice heavy with sudden frustration.

"Nothing," I grunt, not slowing down.

"Stop!" He grabs my arm, spinning me around to face him, his face flushed and his eyes wide. "What the hell did I do?"

"Nothing," I insist, wishing I could just teleport back to my room and not have to deal with any of this.

"Then why the heck are you acting like this?" There's a note of desperation in his voice. _How can he not understand what's going on here?_

"Because I like you!" I shout.

The hand gripping my upper arm relaxes a little, but he still looks very confused, like a deer caught in a headlight not quite able to comprehend what's going to happen next.

"I like you too?" he says startled, "We're friends aren't we?"

"No, you idiot, I like you like you, like I want to be with you like you!" I'm not sure if what I just said made sense, it seems so obvious to me, but he acts like he hasn't got a clue.

His eyes grow nearly as wide as Ikuno's, "Really?"

"Yeah," I say forlornly; defeat in my voice.

"Oh," he blushes a little, "I like you too, like, well like that."

_He does? Ah, but there's always a but. _

"But," I say, feeling the corners of my eyes growing wet, "Shizune asked you first, and now you're with her"

"What?" he lets go of my arm, taking a step back in shock. "No, I'm not with anyone like that."

_He's not? _

"But I thought, you spend so much time with her?"

"I'm on the council, I kind of have to spend a lot of time with her!" he cries exasperatedly.

"So…" I trail off biting my lip, "Would you like to, you know, with me?"

He rubs the back of his neck with his hand, his cheeks becoming almost the same shade as his chestnut eyes, "I, yeah, yeah I would."

_It's hardly the most romantic beginning to a relationship, but then when is life ever perfect?_

"What do we do now?" I ask awkwardly.

"A date?" he suggests meekly, rubbing his chest absentmindedly. _Oh please don't die on me right now. _

"Are you okay?" I ask, taking a worried step forward.

"Oh, yeah I'm fine, just gotta a little worked up I suppose," a pair of dimples appear as he smiles warmly, "Nothing to worry about."

I wonder if he would tell me the truth? I know from personal experience the truth about ourselves is sometimes hard to face and even harder to express; but that doesn't matter now, he's mine, I've won, we can sort out the facts about ourselves later.

"Does Saturday night work for you?" Hisao asks, his voice snapping me back to the track.

"Huh?" I say dazedly. _Normal people can think without getting distracted by it right? _

"For a date? Does Saturday work?" He's still rubbing his chest, but it seems to more out of habit than pain.

"Sure," I say happily, "Sorry, sometimes I kind of get lost in my own head, I'm a little crazy."

Putting his hands on his hips he laughs, causing a fresh wave of heat to my cheeks.

"It's okay, I do that too sometimes and," he smirks, "I like crazy."

With our plans settled we walk together under the last moments of the glorious summer sun, what surprises me is how little things have changed, we still laugh and joke like we always have. But now it's somehow freer, innocent, not some carefully laid game of find the subtext.

_I like him, and now I know, he likes me. _


	25. Derailment

_Like a silent stone guardian Hisao pulls me from the wreckage of the truck, his warm fingers breathing life back into my frozen body. _

"_It's okay, I'm going to get you out of here," he says with a brilliantly reassuring smile, a pair of sweet dimples appearing on his perfect cheeks. Even ankle deep in water, standing beside a body I can't help but be overthrown by his beauty. _

_In the clear air outside of the truck I fall into his arms, the sky a dazzling blue above us. Stroking his soft cheek with the fingers of my left hand, I marvel at the alien feeling. _

"_You did this?" he asks, gesturing to the black shell that was once a Ford truck. _

_I shake my head vigorously, he can't know the truth, he'll hate me. _

"_She did, I saw her," Ayumu says, appearing beside us as if by magic. His cold face turns to mine. I wish he would smile, or laugh, like he used to; when I loved him. _

_Hisao pushes me away with a surprising amount of force. I'm flung into the truck behind me. Desperately I stretch my hand out, trying to slow myself before the jagged metal rips into my flesh. But pressing my left hand against the cab reveals not cold steel as I had expected, but a searing plate like a frying pan. _

_I scream as the flesh on my hand melts away, becoming blistered and blackened almost instantly. Pain shoots up my arm, settling in my chest. _

"_You did this," both boys says together, looking at me with disgust. _

"_No, no!" I cry, desperate to explain, "Please no!" _

_Together they turn, starting to walk away without a second look back, I try and run after them, but the sound of a horn causes me to look up. _

_Headlights blind me, as the world goes black. _

I'm still screaming, "No, no, no! Please!" When I wake up, a hot sticky mess entrapped in my own bedclothes. _Summer sucks. _Realising I'm fighting a hopeless battle and still screaming like a maniac. At the same time, I stop struggling and try to focus.

Finally freeing myself and kicking my covers to the floor I quickly check my hand, expecting to see burnt flesh at least, it hurts so much. I jump when I see the bandaged stump. _What the hell? _Memory floods back as someone knocks on my door.

"C… come in," I sniff, wiping away tears with my good hand. I'm supposed to be happy, could my stupid body and mind not give me even one night to celebrate asking Hisao out?

My door opens, and Ikuno walks in, rubbing her eyes. _I'm so lucky she chose not to spend tonight with Ryouta. _I take one look at her, and begin to sob, it's all so fucking unfair.

"Hey, hey!" she coos rushing over to me, I must be a state, I can feel the buckets of cold sweat coating my skin, and my hair feels like it's been dipped in a grease tray, where it lies matted on my back.

"I woke you, I'm sorry," I croak, trying to stem the flow of tears with the back of my thumb, while the phantom of my hand, the same hand that just moments ago stroked _his _cheek burns in my lap.

"No, it's okay, what happened?" my best friend asks, bending down to pick up a fallen pillow.

"Bad dream, I saw-" I stop suddenly, catching sight of a shadow in my doorway, Ryouta. He stands awkwardly, like a stranger at a funeral. Sobbing even harder I snatch the pillow from Ikuno, trying to hide my face behind it, like a child. _I don't want him to see me like this. _

Shooing him away with a wave of her hand and a furious look in her eyes Ikuno turns to me, placing a palm on my damp forehead. "You're burning up, go take a shower while I make your bed."

I stand numbly, following her instructions without question. I'm tired of always fighting, of always struggling, so I'm content to be led. My feet carry me to the shower room by themselves, and I strip without a second thought. The bandages around my stump falling to the tiled floor like a streamer, before I step under the lukewarm water.

What time is it? I forgot to check before leaving my room, its an odd sensation, and brings forth a crushing realisation. _If I don't keep on top of this I'm going to be lost. _Running my fingers through my hair I think I can finally understand why mum started drinking, sometimes it's just kinder to let reality slip away.

_I think I always knew that simple fact. _

"Miki?," Ikuno calls, I didn't even hear her open the door, "I'll leave a towel out here for when you're ready."

"You can stay," I splutter, accidentally ingesting a large amount of water. "What time is it?" I say, trying to recover with dignity.

"It's around two in the morning,"

"Oh." I don't know what comfort I expected to gain from discovering that I would be half asleep for yet another day of school. "I asked Hisao out," I say matter of factly, I had hoped to find a better time to tell her. _But naked at two am is never the wrong time to tell somebody something. _

"You did?" she replies excitedly, "What did he say?"

"He said yes," I grin to myself. _He said yes. _Not even bad dreams and burning hands can take away the fact that he chose me, it's like the ultimate vengeance against Ayumu and his stupid girlfriend. Even if neither of them ever find out - or care - about Hisao.

"That's fantastic!" she shrills, "Were you nervous asking?"

"More… angry," I say, turning off the water and relishing how cool and fresh my skin feels.

"Angry?"

"Yeah," poking my head around the shower curtain I glance at Ikuno, who is sitting dreamily on the bench in the middle of the room. With a stab of guilt I notice the black rings under her eyes, normally hidden by makeup.

"You have a towel?" I ask, reaching out my good hand, before continuing, "It's kinda complicated, but the important point is that he said yes."

Stifling a yawn she passes over a big white fluffy towel - one of her own if I'm not mistaken. "No, you have to tell me everything, right now."

_I should have kept my mouth shut. _

Wrapping myself in soft fluffiness I step out of the shower, her infectious yawn catching me mid-step. Glancing up at her curious face I can't help but smile. In many ways she's the friend I've always wanted, painfully cliched sometimes, as if she's stepped out of a TV show; but kind and caring.

"I will, but lets wait till tomorrow, I'll take you to the Shanghai after school," I tuck my stump into the towel, suddenly very aware of it. "I need to plan for my date," I smirk as her eyes light up.

"A date?" she almost squeals, pressing her hands together in a apt impression of an American high school student from one of Ryouta's stupid movies. _Perhaps people are right to criticize television._

"Tomorrow,_" _I say, yawning theoretically.

"Fine," she concedes, "But you're paying, and I better get every juicy detail."

_Fine, as long as I don't have to hear any 'juicy' details about what she and Ryouta get up to._

"Ikuno," I start softly, "Thanks for, you know, bad dream patrol."

She smiles earnestly, shrugging a little as if embarrassed by the gratitude. I owe her, more than she can imagine - and not just financially. In the chaotic sea of my scrambled thoughts she is a lighthouse, a safe haven. It's why I can commit so certainly to telling her everything, well nearly everything. _There are some storms that even she could not weather. _

Gently touching my arm she pulls me from my contemplative thoughts, "Will you be okay?"

"I think so," I smile, "I'll see you in class?"

"Y… yep," she yawns, "If I can get Ryouta out of bed in the morning anyway."

We both share a gentle laugh, the sound echoing around the empty bathroom. As Ikuno heads back to bed, I start the laborious task of drying my long hair. Rubbing my head with the towel I watch myself in the mirror, my cheeks starting to burn as I wonder what Hisao will make of the sight in front of me.

Stopping I consider myself from a few angles. No, I'm definitely not as front loaded as Misha, but I'm much more toned. I would wager that Shizune's beauty comes from her style, and less her body and as for Lilly… Well, I'm nearly as tall as she is. _Hmmmm. _So, I'm a more comfortable height to kiss? Snorting derisively at my own wandering mind I wrap the towel around myself, heading back to my bedroom.

_Since when do I worry about my body? My distraction is starting to become distracting; and we've not even been on a date yet. _

— — —

"You look like you've had better nights," Hisao says as I approach with an almost zombie like sluggishness. _Oh, if you knew the half of it. _

"You're meant to compliment your girlfriend," I complain, falling into step beside him.

His cheeks start to flush, as we step out into a beam of fresh sunlight, foreshadowing yet another hot and sticky day at Yamaku. "Your hair looks nice," he blurts, avoiding my eyes.

It's a lie of course, my hair is a rumbled mess, having been slept on before it was dry and forced unceremoniously into a ponytail. Still, I feel a smile creep onto my face.

"Thanks," I say gently, nudging him playfully with my elbow. "I don't sleep that well sometimes, thats why I have you and Ikuno to keep me awake in class." I try and pass off my comment as a causal joke, rather than the major soul destroying problem it's threatening to become. _Perhaps I should schedule a meeting with Dr. Ueda. _

"Truth be told, sometimes I get insomnia as well, from my medication," he admits, still not meeting my gaze.

_Medication? _Well of course he would be on any number of pills for his heart, selfishly I almost forgot that he has his own reasons for being here, that his change in mood from his first days is not a sure sign that everything is okay, just a good cover for someone as broken as I am.

"Is there nothing the nurse can do?" I ask, stepping in between two wheelchair users heading in the opposite direction.

"Not without more side effects," he grumbles, leaving it at that. Being able to emphasize with not wanting to discuss medical stuff I don't press the point.

"Hope we get group work today," I lament, "Ikuno had a rough night as well."

"So you want me to bail you two out?"

"Thats the kind of thing a chivalrous gentleman would do right?" I ask, trying out one of Emi's mind controlling pouts. _Though I doubt it looks as good on me. _

"Well, I guess someone needs to look after your brain, if you're looking after my heart."

"Hey!" I blurt, stepping through the doors into the air conditioned lobby. _I can't work out if that was an insult or not. _

Hisao simply chuckles, following me up the stairs.

— — —

"I just don't understand how someone could be so mean to the cat," I say derisively, taking in Ikuno and Hisao's knowing grins.

"He didn't really poison a cat silly, it's just a thought experiment," Ikuno says, giggling softly. The afternoon sun catching with a glint in her sapphire eyes.

"Yeah," Hisao adds, "It's just a way of saying without knowing for sure, something can be in two states at once."

My new boyfriend and best friend give each other knowing nods, as if this is all very obvious, and I'm being stupid. Honestly, who thinks up all this science stuff? What's worse is the school is expecting me to pass an exam on this nonsense.

I rub my tired eyes with my palms, blurring the half-completed work sheet in front of me. Thankfully it's nearly the end of the day, an escape to the Shanghai for some strong coffee followed by a few laps around the track with Hisao will do me the power of good.

"There's too much thinking in science," I say. "Just look at Mutou; it's affected him."

My partners laugh, Hisao pulling my work sheet towards him and starting to write. _I knew there was a reason I asked him out. _

"Well, it's nearly summer," Ikuno mummers consolingly, "I forgot to ask, did you want to come stay with us for a few weeks during the break?"

"Us?" I ask, sitting up a little straighter.

"Ryouta, me and my family, mum texted this morning to invite you as well." Eyeing Hisao's messy brown hair nearly brushing the table as he writes she winks at me, "You can bring a plus one as well if you want."

"I would love too," I say. _Beats being bored at home. _

"Miss Miura, I'm well aware that mine is not your favourite subject, but you could at least make the token effort of having the worksheet in front of you," Mutou interrupts with a raised eyebrow.

I grimace, having to strain my neck to look up at his weatherbeaten face and out of control hair. _Damn it! _He led us into a false sense of security by being the most inattentive teacher in the entire universe, it was all a cunning ruse.

"Ah," I say, trying to find a plausible excuse as the rest of the class pauses to watch. "It's both completed perfectly and not even touched, at the same time, as long as you don't look at it."

Hisao snorts, trying to hold back his laughter, while Ikuno pushes her face into her hands with a mixture of pity and despair. _I thought it was quite a clever excuse. _

Holding my breathe I wait for Mutou's conclusion, "Well, at least you learned something, once Mr Nakai is done with your paper you can present it after class, where we will be having a word."

"Yes, sir," I say. So I might be a little delayed going to the Shanghai, but overall that didn't go so badly.

"I can't believe you got away with that," Ikuno whispers. as Mutou drifts dreamily back to his desk.

"Well, I might not have," I shrug, "He still might give me a detention or something."

"Look over these answers," Hisao says, pushing my paper back towards me, "And tell me if you don't understand anything."

I raise an eyebrow at him, apparently he's not forgotten his offer to study with me. Across the classroom Shizune glowers at the pair of us, catching my eye with a disapproving frown; that I meet with a brilliant smile. _You lost, Miss President. _

We resume our casual chatter as class starts to wind down, Ikuno talking at some length about the summer holidays. The classroom seems cooler than it was yesterday, a merciful breeze creeps through the windows, rustling papers on desks. Despite the threat of detention hanging over my head I feel myself start to relax.

A knock on the door interrupts the classroom's chatter. Visitors to room 3:3 are so rare it borders on a unique event. Slowly, with great care the door is opened and a middle aged women strides in, with defiant purpose. Unremarkable in almost every way, I vaguely recognise her as being a member of the admin staff, though I could be mistaken. In a few quick steps she is at Mutou's desk, sharing a private word that seems to have gotten the normally dazed teachers full attention.

I share a confused look with my classmates, with any luck this will be enough of a distraction to knock me off of Mutou's radar. The two adults pause in their conversation and together look up, directly at me. _The hell? _

"Miura, could you accompany Mrs Imaizumi, if the rest of you would like to carry on with your work." Our teacher nods at me, a strange look on his face.

I stand, my heart starting to beat quickly. _This is it. _They must have found out about the lie, outside there will be the police waiting to arrest me. I wish I could say my last goodbyes but everything is moving too fast.

I leave my bag at my desk - _I won't need it in jail - _and follow the woman whose name I've already forgotten out of the door.

I'm surprised to find the corridor deserted, perhaps the authorities are waiting for me to get outside before springing into action. Not that I could put up any kind of resistance, I could make a run for it I suppose, but what good would that do for me? _Other than delay the inevitable. _

"I'm afraid to tell you this, but your father has been rushed to a hospital," she speaks slowly, softly, with well rehearsed poise. "Your grandfather has requested that you be allowed to leave school to see him,"

_She reminds me of a doctor saying he's very sorry, but there was nothing they could do… _

"W… what?" I stammer, feeling the blood rush out of my face. _Dad's in hospital?_

"I believe your grandfather is out of the country at the moment, otherwise I'm sure he would be here to tell you this himself." She continues, with a sympathetic look that's well honed. _Is this the person who tells parents the worst has happened to their offspring while at school? _

"What hospital is he in? When did this happen?" I say desperately.

"Here," she says, withdrawing from her pocket a collection of papers and handing them to me.

The first is the address of the hospital, I recognise it at once, because it's the facility I was taken to when I lost my hand. _I never wanted to go back there, not ever. _Below it is a train ticket, with a flexible departure time for today. And lastly, most terrifying of all, is a pamphlet with the title "Sickness and bereavement in the family: A guide to coping'.

Thoughts race through my mind, none of them good. Could my grandfather really not have spared an international call to tell me this? How could he just send a vague message with someone I don't even know, about something this important. _Doesn't he care at all? _

"Miss Miura, are you okay?"

_What kind of stupid fucking question is that. _

"Yes, yes, I just, I need to get going." I say, turning on my heel and heading towards the stairs.

With a startling amount of vigor for a women her age, My unwelcome messenger falls into step beside me. "Yes, I quite understand, would you like me to arrange a taxi to take you to the station?"

"No, It's fine," I say quickly, "Thanks." I silently curse my ingrained manners as I rush down the stairs, taking them two at the time, leaving the admin lady far behind me.

—

It takes me far longer to pack and prepare than I would have liked. Hardly anything fitted when I stuffed it haphazardly into my worn backpack, that mixed with the fact I had managed to pack only undies and jeans, neglecting even a single item of clothing for the top half of my body seemed to require a re-think. Which took time, time I'm not sure my dad has.

Now dressed in my leggings, comfortable trainers and very baggy hoodie I wait impatiently outside the main building, waiting for class to end. _I forgot my phone. _It's in my bag, that's still trapped in the classroom, I just hope Ikuno or Hisao has the good sense to bring it with them.

Pacing back and forth I feel like screaming, I don't even know what's wrong with dad. That's the worst part, was he involved in an accident? Did he have a heart attack? Is this my fault for not insisting he went to the hospital? For not dragging him there? _Please let him be okay. _

Somewhere inside the maze of bright halls a bell rings, and seemingly moments later a herd of first years cascade into the sunlight, chatting and laughing happily. It's disconcerting, how I might be having the worst day of my life, and these strangers will forgot this sunny afternoon even existed.

_I don't want the world to revolve around me, but a momentary glance would be nice. _

"Miki!" Ikuno shouts, barging her way through an equally chatty bunch of second and third years, Hisao following her wake, his arms held up protectively against any stray knocks to his fragile chest.

"Hi," I say, my voice cracking slightly as they emerge from the crowd, thankfully with my bag swinging from Ikuno's arm.

"What's going on?" she asks, blue eyes wide.

"My," I pause, before committing myself, "My dad's in hospital, and I need to go and visit him." I didn't want Hisao hearing that really, but it was a pipe dream to keep up the illusion that I was anything other than a one armed magnet for disaster.

"Oh Miki," Ikuno gasps, covering her mouth with her hands.

Fishing my phone out of my school bag I share a warm hug with my best friend, that in one brief moment says more than any number of words. She will look after things here, she'll tell Ryouta and make sure my room does not burn to the ground, because that's what we do for each other.

With great difficulty I pull away from the embrace, turning to Hisao who looks embarrassed to be caught up in something so personal. Though he wears the title of my boyfriend, it means little more than a reserved sign at a restaurant. _What about our date? _

"I will wait," he says, seeming to read my mind, "I'll be here when you get back, I promise."

Fat tears roll down my face, and I flick up my hood to try and hide my face. Slowly I reach out and take his hand into mine, the skin as soft as in my dreams. Sniffing gently I mouth a silent thank you, unable to speak.

Our brief moment of contact lasts only a fraction of a heartbeat, but it still felt like something special. Our goodbyes are swift but heartfelt, and I find myself drifting through the black iron gates in an almost haze, lost in my own thoughts.

It's easier to go away knowing I have a safe place to return to, and that's what I have in Ikuno, Hisao and Ryouta. For better or worse, whatever happens, they will be here. _When I come home. _


	26. Clean White Walls

I wake to the squeaking rumble of the train car, as it plunges through the twilight countryside. _It was light when I fell asleep. _I wish I had been able to sleep for longer last night, or at least had a more productive nap curled up against the cool train window, the fabric of my hood acting as a pillow.

Sitting up slightly I stretch my arms above my head, before withdrawing my phone from the overstuffed backpack. I check the time - just past nine o'clock at night, I've also got a missed call from a number I don't recognise. _Damn it! Must have still been on silent from school. _

With a sense of trepidation I hit the re-dial button and press the speaker to my ear.

"Hello…?" A soft woman's voice answers.

"Hi," I reply, trying desperately to work out where I've heard her before.

"Oh, Miki dear, it's Miss Kita." The worry in her voice is tangible.

"What happened to dad?" I ask quickly.

"Oh dear, I don't really know, one moment he was fine, the next he just fell over and we couldn't get any response. He and your mother are at the hospital now, and I will pick you up from the station when you arrive." It's hard to tell from her voice just how worried I should be, her tone is measured, but undermined with genuine panic.

I don't really know how to respond. Did I really want to know that information? Does it really help when I'm stuck on a train and at least an hour away from the hospital, and even when I get there, what can I do? Am I just rushing somewhere to watch my father die?

"Okay," I say quietly, "I will be there in about an hour I guess."

"I will be there when you arrive dear, don't worry."

"Thank you, I'll see you soon." I say dreamily, my head still filled with racing thoughts.

"See you soon dear," with a beep Miss Kita hangs up, as the first lights of my distant hometown glitter on the horizon, the midnight blue sky tinged an ugly orange.

— — —

The car journey is much the same as the train. Together in uncomfortable silence Miss Kita and I weave along familiar roads to the city's hospital. The black plastic dashboard, indented to resemble a vague sense of leather, is intermittently illuminated with orange light before fading back to darkness as we pass under each street light.

I hardly notice when we pull up outside the towering building, clad in white and green panels that hope to bring the aged building into the new millennium. _It makes the vast mass before me no less imposing._ Unseasonably cold air stings my face as I climb out of the small red car. Wrapping my arms around my chest I shiver, before turning back to my mother's housekeeper, still seated behind the wheel.

"Parking here is problematic, you go in dear, ask for your father and they will show you to his room." she speaks kindly, and it's with a slight start that I remember she's not really family, but an employee of my grandfather.

I nod, watching her small hatchback glide away, before turning back to the large automatic doors spilling clean blue light out onto the street. With a swish they part, and I have to screw my eyes up against the sudden glare of fluorescent lighting and clean white walls.

— — —

A nurse, recruited by the tassel-haired receptionist leads me through a maze of indistinguishable corridors. Memories of overwhelming boredom, eased only slightly by pacing through these halls spring into my mind, but it's impossible to tell where exactly in this labyrinth I was kept. Finally, after much walking and an uncomfortable lift journey in which the nurse spent a considerable amount of time trying not to look at my stump, we arrive outside a heavy wooden door.

With a gentle knock she opens the door, revealing the brightly lit room, past experience had told me to expect. Wordlessly the nurse vanishes, leaving me to enter alone.

Covering my mouth I take in the sight of my thin frame lays almost lost in amongst the bedclothes. Tubes and wires snake from an array of bags and beeping machines, to dive cruelly into his skinny body. Beside him, hugging her knees is my mother, her face pale and gaunt, eyes tightly closed. _Is he alive? _

Movement from the bed shows he is, as he slurs my name, "M…Miki?"

Letting the door swing closed behind me, I cross the room in only a few long strides; dropping my backpack as I go.

"Dad!" I say shakily, reaching his bedside and staring down into the face of my father. _Oh no. _The corner of his mouth and eye droop lazily and he seems to be having trouble focusing on me, even though I am only a few feet away.

"Miki," my mother says surprised, waking up with a start. "You needn't have come all this way."

I'm slightly taken aback, are things not as bad as they look? _Because they look pretty fucking bad. _

"What happened?" I ask; stunned.

"I… h… had a bit… of.. a fall.. i..is.. all," dad slurs, having problems articulating his speech.

"Your dad just passed out, it's nothing to worry about." my mum insists, sitting up a little straighter in her chair before stretching her arms and yawning.

_What the hell? _She's acting like nothing major has happened, and dad's trying to play the whole situation down even though he can hardly form a coherent sentence. Is this all some act to try and spare my feelings? Well, it's not working, I want the truth. Opening my mouth to start another round of questioning I'm interrupted, as Miss Kita and a white coated doctor walk into the room.

"Whats going on?" I demand of the newcomers, my voice louder than I intended.

"You would be the daughter?" The doctor asks, his eyes drawn to my bandaged stump. _I guess even in his line of work a one handed girl is still a novelty. _

"Yes," I say simply, pushing my stump into the tube-like pocket of my hoodie.

"Why don't you take a seat?" he says, his eyes flashing back to my face, a guilty look marring his aged face.

"Have mine," mum says, getting to her feet quickly. "I need a drink, or something."

I watch, frozen in shock, as she leaves her bedside vigil and strides out of the room very purposely not looking at any of us. _Does she not care at all? _Miss Kita gives me an odd look - a kind of half frown - and a shrug before leaving the room as well, apparently intent on catching mum. _Though I doubt it's to drag her back in here. Where she belongs. _

The doctor clears his throat awkwardly, gesturing to the chair.

Sitting down I'm now at eye level with dad, who gives me a reassuring smile. Though with half his face dropping the effect is more alarming than comforting. Forcing myself to smile back, because it feels like the right thing to do, I take his cold hand in mine.

"I'm Doctor Yamanaka, head of neurology here," he straightens his lab coat as he speaks, not out of nerves but more a well worn habit though years of experience.

_Whatever neurology is it doesn't sound good. _

"Would you like me to explain the situation to your daughter Mr Miura?"

Dad nods slowly, his clammy hand squeezing mine very gently.

"Very good," looking directly at me with piecing lighting blue eyes the doctor continues, "I'm afraid your father has suffered whats called a Hemorrhagic Stroke, this is caused when a tumour on the brain starts to bleed increasing pressure inside the skull and pressing against vital systems."

Pausing he lets the information sink in. _This can't be happening. _Mum's acting like nothings wrong, when dad has what? Cancer? Thats the only thing that causes tumours right? And inside his head, no wonder he was starting to seem more spaced out at home. _This is my fault. _I should have made him go to the doctors before now, I was stupid to think everything was going to be okay. _Nothing is ever okay. _

"Does he have cancer?" I ask, looking into my father's distorted face.

"We can't be sure, due to the nature of the bleeding we will need to surgically remove the tumour before it can do any more damage, only once we perform a biopsy in the lab will we know for sure if its benign or not. Then we can start re-evaluating the necessary treatment." he says with professional detachment.

"But your talking about brain surgery," I whimper softly.

"I'm afraid it's the only option."

"When." I can barely speak now, not looking away from dad. Who is expressionless, slumped into his pillows.

"Tonight, as soon as we can arrange things."

"What are his chances?" I ask, trying not to meet anybodies eye.

"M… m… miki," dad splutters.

Looking between my and dad the doctors face softens slightly, a hint of regret touching his wrinkled jowls. "If the surgery is successful, his long time prognosis should improve greatly."

_If._

I can feel the hot tears burn my cheeks as I nod, he might as well have told me dad's going to die. Looking up I see that for the first time dad looks upset, and it makes me feel even worse, how can he be worried about me with his death hanging omnipresent in the room?

"Do you have any more questions?" Dr Yamanaka asks, not unkindly.

I shake my head, touching my forehead to dad's hand, face hidden against the bed.

"I will take my leave, the nursing staff can contact me if you need anything at all."

I don't respond, but hear footsteps before a door open and closes, the noises feel like they are a million miles away. Unable to hold out anymore I start to cry, hard gasping sobs that seem to burn though my throat and reverberate though my body. _I'm going to have to say goodbye… In a few hours I will have to say goodbye, and it will be forever. _

"M… Miki… I'm going… to… be okay."

Sitting up slowly I wipe my teary face on my bandages, sniffing as I try and control myself. _I can't lose myself, not when he needs me. _

"You don't know that," I sniffle.

"N.. no… but, I h.. have h.. had a g.. good.. life."

"Don't talk like that," I exclaim, fighting back the tears that continue to flow down my cheeks.

With cruelty bordering on malice he chuckles, the sound odd and distorted. _How can he laugh about this? _

"If… something h… happens, I… go.. go knowing I helped… bring.. something wonderful… into the world," he grips my hand gently, as if to emphasise the point.

I could tell him, I could tell him his perfect wonderful daughter killed somebody in cold blood. _That I lied. _And what's worse is breaking up with my boyfriend gave me more sleepless nights than the murder I committed. _I can't do that too him. _I can't say goodbye with him hating me.

"W… what are… you… doing for summer break?" he asks unexpectedly.

"Nothing," I say quickly, "I will be at home with you and mum."

_How can we go from talking about the worth of his life to my stupid summer plans. _

"Y… you… should… spend t… time with your f… friends… outside…," he pauses, taking a deep rattling breath, "Outside… school. T.. these times… are precious."

Without fully understanding why, I start to tell him about Ikuno and her invitation, my suspicions of her family's wealth, even about the stupid pony that I use to tease her. All the while he listens intently, a strange half smile playing across his wry face. I answer his questions without hesitation, finding myself opening up as if confessing on my own deathbed, rather than leaning against his.

He coos supportively when I tell him about the phone call with Ayumu's new girlfriend, and tuts disapprovingly, though in a clearly amused way, when he learns about Hisao and me becoming more than just running partners. The conversation is slow, and I worry that it's costing him too much effort, but the time for me to worry for his health has come and gone. _We are at the end of the road, or at least that's how it feels. _

"Mum thinks you're going to be fine, does she know about," I gesture to his head, immediately regretting it.

"S… she k.. knows," his eyes flicker to the jug of water on his bedside cabinet.

Cursing my own ineptitude I pour him a class, helping him to drink the lukewarm liquid, before wiping his mouth with my sleeve.

"T… thank.. you," he sighs softly, "Your… mum.. s.. struggles with… change, s… she w.. wants things… to.. always be.. the same."

_I know exactly how she feels. _

"Will she start drinking again?" I say, for the first time hearing fear slip into my voice.

"I.. h.. hope.. not, t.. things don't… always… end up.. the way you.. want them."

Nodding I take his hand again, the physical contact somehow comforting.

"Can I ask you something?" I say, my eyes not quite meeting his.

"A… anything."

I take a deep breath, "Do you ever wish you had never been caught, that you had just run away before the police arrived."

"Hmmm," blinking slowly he considers, "W… when… I was younger… more bitter… yes."

"And now?" I ask a little too quickly.

"I w.. would… feel… incomplete.. had I.. not atoned for m.. my.. crime, do… do you under.. understand?"

"Yes," I whisper, hardly able to speak.

_Am I incomplete? _Is that why so many bad things seem to happen to me. I never thought about justice as something the universe delivered, I thought heaven and hell were merely concepts so that people could find some comfort that good people were reward and the evil punished. _Was I wrong? _Am I the reason my dad is here?

"M… Miki… are you.. okay?"

I almost snort at how ridiculous the question is, I don't think I've even been so far from okay in my entire life.

"Dad, I-"

Before I can confess anything the door is opened, and I lose my nerve, falling back into my chair. Mum and Miss Kita stride into the room; cups of coffee in their hands. I vacate mum's seat, taking the coffee she brought back for me gratefully. Part of me feels guilty for not telling the truth. _Another part feels just as guilty for nearly burdening him with it. _

The room settles into a morbid silence as I take a seat in a familiar hospital issue armchair, positioned to give views out over the city. Tucking my legs under myself I try and find familiar streetlight lit landmarks scattered in the darkness; but it all just looks like so many points of light. Beside me, mum speaks gently to my father. I can't catch her words even in the nearly silent room.

— — —

Around midnight Miss Kita rises from her seat by the door and says her solemn goodbyes, apologising for having to leave. It's easy to forget sometimes that she has her own family. Rising from my seat, half needing to stretch my legs and half wishing to say goodbye, I notice dad is asleep. _I have to look at the heart rate monitor to be sure nothing worse has happened. _

To my surprise our housekeeper gives me a warm hug before disappearing out of the door, with a last lingering look at dad. _Does she think this is the last time she will ever see him? _She might not be wrong.

With the momentary break in the monotony, mum and I return to our respective seats. I don't feel like talking to her. I can emphasise with her fears, but I am no less afraid; I can't play her 'everything will be okay' game. Between the two of us I always felt like the strong one, the leaning post for when she was too drunk to stand, but I can't find any strength in me at the moment.

Feeling guilty for my boredom I withdraw my phone, flicking it open to find no new messages. _Do I want to talk to somebody? _Ikuno is an option, but I don't want to worry her with this, nor do I want to discuss things in the detail that she will demand. Ryouta, that would just be strange, no, what I need is a distraction.

My fingers move in a blur, acting before I can change my mind:

[To: Hisao] 'Are you asleep?'

Placing my phone on the arm of the chair I feel an instant tang of regret, he's been my boyfriend for less than two days he shouldn't have to be woken up in the middle of the night to answer stupid texts. _Lets just hope he sleeps through it. _

I jump slightly when the phone buzzes on the armrest, almost knocking the handset to the floor in my haste to grab it.

[From: Hisao] 'Not anymore, are you okay?'

I cringe at having woken him, but reply quickly.

[To Hisao] 'I don't think so."

Pushing the cool plastic case against my lips I wait.

[From Hisao] "Your dad is not doing well?'

[To Hisao] "No, hes not'

_Could I be sounding anymore cryptic right now? _

[From Hisao] 'Is there anything I can do to help?'

Despite myself I let a smile touch my lips, it's a sweet gesture. We never really spoke about his heart condition, it was always the elephant on the track causing me to keep constant watch over him. But now that I think about it he must have spent his fair share of time in a hospital when he was diagnosed, has he ever had surgery? Perhaps he knows more of what I'm going through than I thought.

My thumb floats across the raised digits of the phone formulating a reply.

[To Hisao] 'Distract me?'

He does not answer at once, and I begin to wonder if he's fallen back to to sleep, I couldn't blame him. _Perhaps If I go to sleep in this chair I will wake up to find that this entire day has been a nightmare. _

My phone buzzes.

[From Hisao] 'Running without you sucks. I'm much slower, and I have no one to talk to.'

[To Hisao] 'I hope you were careful young man, I want you fighting fit for when I get back'

[From Hisao] 'I'm always careful, I learned my lesson from your first telling off!'

I pull my hood up so mum can't see my glowing cheeks and smirk. If I can count on one thing, it's my distraction. In our slow and almost silent way we continue to text back and forth, Hisao doing his level best to keep me distracted with increasingly ridiculous stories from the student council. A lot of which seem to be highly embellished, but I don't mind. I do notice, however, that he never directly mocks Shizune as I might have done; which irks me slightly. _Perhaps I got the wrong measure of her? I don't like the idea of being wrong. _

— — —

Finally his well of stories seems to run dry at around half past one in the morning and a warning tone tells me my phone battery is on its last legs. _It's been nice to escape for a little while. _

[To Hisao] 'I better let you get back to bed, thank you for staying up with me.'

[From Hisao] 'You sure?'

[To Hisao] 'Very sure, run along to bed, i'll see you when I get back 3'

I blush realising I sent a love heart in the last message, hopefully he doesn't pick up on that.

[From Hisao] Goodnight Miki, I'll see you soon I hope'

I type my own goodnights and send, thankful that his boy brain missed the childish symbol. _It's all Ryouta's and Ikuno's fault anyway: They can't text properly and they spread their bad habits to me. _

[From Hisao] '3'

_Stupid thoughtful idiot. _

—

I'm dozing, caught halfway between sleep and reality when the doctor comes to collect dad. I stand up, swaying unsteadily as he's wheeled out of the room. _I've never felt so hopeless. _Mum follows them all the way to the door, her aged hand gripping the doorframe as she watches him disappear.

We're left in silence, the lack of heart monitor settles into the room, it's rhythmic beeping suddenly very noticeable in its absence. _I don't know what to say. _Mum turns to me slowly, and at once I see sparkling tears in her eyes.

"I don't think he's going to be okay," she whispers, covering her mouth with her hand.

In three quick strides I am in front of her, my arms wrapped around her small body. We stay like that for a long time, until by some unseen signal we wander to the armchair, which is big enough to allow us to sit side by side. With the glistening city laid out in front of us we wait for the dawn, holding each other's hands, closer than we have been in ten years.

It occurs to me that I might have heard my father's last words. It didn't seem to register when I was speaking to him, but now, as the city sleeps, I can't get them out of my head. _I would feel incomplete had I not atoned for my crime. _I've not atoned, not in the slightest, how can I be sure that dad's condition is not a punishment meant for me? _Is that selfish? _

But how can I confess? How can I spend time in prison, away from my friends, my family, from Hisao. He will move on, like Ayumu, once he learns the truth. _I can't blame him for that, but imagining the disgusted look on his face still stings._ Grinding my teeth I try to picture Tatsuo's face and find some remorse, but I can't. All I feel is loathing. _He did this too me, all of this is him. _

The fingertips on my phantom left hand start to burn, as if I was holding them against a hot frying pan. As subtle as I can I slip my stump into my pocket, pushing it hard into my stomach. _Is this not punishment enough? _But I know it isn't, pain is not justice - not when I'm the only one who knows the reason for it. _Did he have a family? _It's hard to imagine the specter from so many of my dreams having a mother and father who cared for him, who wept for him, who blamed him for the accident.

Is this what fate or god, or whatever malevolent force turns the universe wants me to understand? That my pain is not the sole consequence of my actions, that by my lies I cause pain to others and I, like my dad says, am somehow incomplete. I refuse to believe there is no reason for everything that happens, that would be too cruel. _I owe a debt, and the universe will not be happy until I've repaid it. _

Confessing makes me feel sick to my stomach, because the cold, hard, horrific truth is, I don't think I'm strong enough to do it.

_The faintest trace of dawn touches the sky, as in an operating theatre not far from where I'm sitting, the universe plans its next move._


	27. On a Roll of the Dice

I've never wanted to fall asleep more - to let the world disappear and escape my chaotic thoughts. Resting her head against my shoulder, mum is still, but I can't tell if she's asleep or not. _It doesn't seem to matter either way. _Exhaling softly I try closing my eyes and hope my body complies.

Which of course it doesn't. Images of a faceless doctor striding into the room and shaking his head flash across my mind; stabbing at my gut. With a growing resentment for my subconscious I open my eyes, the city is lit in a cheerful morning sun behind the window. Dad has been in surgery throughout the night. With no indication of how things are going me and mum have little choice but to wait.

I've used the time to try and plan for my father's death, to accept it in advance. _As if it might ease the pain. _Because that's how this ends right? The chances are so low, yet I can't help but hold on to a tiny ember of hope that smolders in my chest, a kind of trapped excitement that everything will be okay. _It's a childish hope. _

A knock on the door forces me from my revery and causes me to jump, disturbing mum, who blinks at me confusedly. I try to give her a reassuring look, but I don't feel reassured - not at all. Jumping to my feet I make my unsteady way to the door, pins and needles playing around my numb legs.

Feeling unnaturally cold beneath my palm the handle moves easily, as I pull open the door to reveal Dr Yamanaka. His expression is impossible to read as he steps into the room, closing the door behind him. I retreat quickly to Mum, who is now standing with her weight lent against the armchair, her dark bloodshot eyes seemingly out of focus.

"I'm happy to say the surgery was successful and we were able to remove most, if not all of the tumour." His flat tone gives nothing away, but that has to be good news right?

"However I'm afraid to say that your father suffered complications during the procedure and has fallen into a coma."

"Will he wake up?" I ask, hearing my own voice as if it's a thousand miles away.

"Well, the prognoses is not good for a man of his age and condition, but we are not giving up on him Miss Miura."

How can he survive the surgery, the procedure that had the highest chance of killing him, only to end up in a coma to which he may never recover?

"What about the tumour, is it..?" I can't bring myself to say the word, cancer.

"We are awaiting the lab results, we should know later today."

"Right," I say, feeling bile rise in my throat.

"Is there anything you would like to know Mrs Miura?"

I go to answer, before I notice he's addressing my mother for the first time. She jumps, startled at the sudden attention. Gone is the newfound confidence I had grown to admire in her, replaced with an uneasy look of desperation. A look she would wear when the drink had dried up and reality had crashed back around her.

Shaking her head she sits back down, deliberately not looking at me or the doctor.

"I'm sorry," I say, not feeling apologetic at all, "This is a difficult time for us."

"I quite understand," Dr Yamanaka replies, "You will be able to see your father soon once he is settled in intensive care."

I nod numbly, half tempted to sprint past him out of the door, to run until I pass out. A desperation for the rush of relief that only the track can bring burns in me as bright as my mother's desire to lose herself to a bottle. But I can't, Mum needs looking after and my phone needs charging. Escape is not an option.

After seeing the doctor out with as much thanks as I can muster - after all he has been here as long as I have and looks just as tired for it - I return to mum, who is weeping softly into her hands, defeat visible in her body language. _She's lost hope already. _Forgoing my own grief I sink to the floor, leaning against the chair as to lay my head in her lap. Momentarily she stiffens, before I feel a hand resting on my unkempt hair.

I can't do anything other than to try and bury my feelings - to lock them away until I have my own time for them - and be there for my mother, who stands on the very edge of oblivion, back into a world of booze fuelled sleep. _I can't support her. _The truth burns at my eyes, I cannot support her if she falls again, I've seen too much of what life can be like, I've seen where her path will take me. _I'm finally understanding that I'm not a good person. _

My tears fall freely onto the fabric of her skirt. As if in retribution or spite, my hand begins to twist and contort. Pain shoots up my arm, into my chest, unforgiving and unrepentant. Forcing my stump into my empty stomach I shudder, desperate to keep myself together. _But the cracks are starting to show. _

— — —

I wake with a start, surprised to find I am no longer trapped in an overturned truck rapidly filling with icy water. It takes me a moment to realise I am still sitting on the hard plastic hospital flooring, with my head resting against my mother's lap. Peering up I can see that she is asleep, a peaceful look on her troubled face.

With joints cracking audibly I pick myself up off the floor, stretching my arms above my head and taking in the room. I find myself looking into the kind eyes of Miss Kita, who sits in a chair by the door, knitting needles in hand. _How long has she been here?_

"Oh, hello dear," she whispers, the gentle click of the knitting a somehow comforting sound in the erie whiteness.

"Have you been here long?" I ask quietly, wandering over to pick up my backpack that has layen discarded since last night.

"About half an hour or so, you two looked so peaceful, I didn't want to wake you." Her needles halt as she pauses, "They say you can go and see your father when you're ready."

"Not yet," I say quickly, feeling a wave of uneasiness shiver through me. "Can you keep an eye on mum if I leave for a bit?" I ask, glancing back to the armchair.

"Of course dear." A strange look plays around her face, the corners of her mouth turned down slightly. "You've spent a lot of time looking after her, haven't you?"

"I guess." I shrug, thrown by the slightly odd question.

"She's going to be strong for you Miki, as you have been for her, she just needs to find it within her."

_The hell? _This is not what I had imagined I would ever talk to Miss Kita about, she was so keen to treat me as an invalid when we first met, now she's what? Telling me I can take a break from being responsible for my mother? She wants to reassure me I guess, it's understandable, but I really can't see mum coming out the other side of this a stronger person. _It's just a sad fact of life._

I shrug, unsure how to answer. "I was going to get a coffee, did you want one?" I ask.

"No, thank you dear." She begins her knitting again, her eyes focussed on a woollen hat that is beginning to take shape. I think we misjudged each other when we first met, she thought I required care, I believed she was set in her ways. But she has a warmness to her, a subtle sign that she still believes things can and will work out, even after a life of being shown otherwise. _My grandfather was right to trust in her. _

Saying my goodbyes and promising to be back soon I push out into the corridor.

The cold water feels as refreshing as a mountain stream, as I cup my hands under the restroom tap before splashing the water onto my face. I catch sight of myself in the mirror, I look awful, the bags under my eyes that have been brewing since yesterday morning are now almost the same shade of purple as my hair, which is itself a tangled and knotted mess. _I should have packed a brush. _

Pulling my fingers through the dry strands as a stop gap measure I lament on not bringing a toothbrush either. I'm so wilfully and completely unprepared, despite repacking my bag. Having also neglected my phone charger, the device has died and I have no idea how I'm going to get power back into the thing. _The nurses were less than useless when I asked. _

Stepping into a cubicle I change into fresh clothes, a worn but well fitting blue t-shirt and baggy jeans; complete with torn knees from an ill conceived attempt at skateboarding years ago. I shiver slightly with the cold tiles beneath my bare feet, hoping against hope that this floor is cleaner than it looks.

With yesterday's outfit stuffed into my backpack I slip into my socks and shoes, heading out to find something to help me stomach whatever might be waiting for me in intensive care.

The hospital canteen is packed when I finally find it. I can think of about a million places I would rather venture than into the roaring mass of staff and patients, battling in a very polite way to secure breakfast and coffee.

However my stomach triumphs over my mind, and I find myself lining up to pay for my food - miso soup, rice and a take away cup of coffee - sliding haphazardly as I balance one end of the plastic tray on my stump, while keeping a firm grip with my remaining hand.

I have to dig deep into my backpack to retrieve my purse, much to the irritation of the dinners behind me. Waving my bandaged arm and saying sorry has the desired effect, they look down, guilt all over their impatient faces. _It's a cheap trick, but my deformity might as well be good for something. _

However my victory is short lived, finding a place to sit seems to be next to impossible; every time someone stands up their place is immediately taken by people more eagle eyed than I am. Finally out of desperation, I ask a women dressed in scrubs, whose blond hair and foreign features are strangely familiar, if I can use the empty seat at her table.

"Oh sure," she says cheerfully, looking up. "Oh my god, Miki?" She blurts, her eyes fixed on mine.

_She knows me? _

"Err, yeah," I say nervously, feeling a deep regret for not having more time for my appearance, now that my anonymity has been striped away.

"Oh, wow, how have you been doing?" She asks, taking a large bite of toast.

"I'm sorry, have we met?" I ask, feeling very rude. _I draw little comfort from knowing that remembering things is not one of my strong points. _

"Oh shoot, I'm Jullie Montrose, I was your physical therapist?" She answers hopefully.

How could I have forgotten, this is the women who through advanced torture techniques and endless enthusiasm helped me to learn to handle my new lopsided life. I'm surprised she remembers me though, it's been nearly a year and half, and I was hardly the most cooperative of patients. _Or even a particularly nice person to be around. _

"You recognised me? It's been more than a year," I say, with a touch of awe in my voice.

"Heh, yeah, well I tend to remember my patients, especially those who were a pain in my backside," she winks.

Using my stump to pin down the package containing my chopsticks I peel the paper away with my good hand, freeing the eating utensils, an action I have performed so many times now that I hardly notice. However, I catch Julie watching me, a sly smile on her face, freckled cheeks bulging slightly.

"What?" I say, meeting her gaze with a puzzled look of my own.

"Oh nothing, just impressed by how far you've come along since you worked with me."

"Oh, right." I take a bite of the tofu floating in my soup, mulling over her words. "I guess I've just adapted over time, but you definitely set me on the right path." It would be impolite to not even acknowledge her help.

"Mmm, well it's not very often I get a positive review, so thanks." She grins, taking another bite of her toast, tearing at the bread like some kind of wild bear. "How are you getting along at your new school?" she asks.

_Now how the hell did she know that… _

"You know I transferred to Yamaku?" I ask, slightly stunned.

"Heh, yeah, your nurse spoke to me on the phone, he's very diligent about his charges. I like that."

Figures if there was spying being done Nurse would be behind it.

"Well, I can introduce you if you like," I say absent mindedly, the soup isn't great… but it's at least filling.

Jullie laughs, her eyes sparkling like moonlit water, "I might have to take you up on that if I'm ever in the area. it's a nice area up there, right?"

I nod, "Yeah," I reply, not sure what I'm supposed to say, "It's nicer than this place anyway."

"Ah, it isn't so bad here."

_Poor dulled fool. _

"So what brings you back?" she asks politely, wiping her mouth with a napkin before throwing it onto the plate in front of her.

_I could lie, in fact I can say it's personal and move on. _But Julie, for all that she's a stranger, feels like someone I might be able to talk to. Miss Kita is kind but I can't see me sharing my worries, mum is less than useless in that regard; if grandad were here... Well, then things might be different.

"My dad," I answer, keeping my eyes fixed to the bowl of rice, stained black with a trail of soy source.

"Oh. Nothing serious I hope?"

"He's in intensive care," I say, before proceeding to tell her about his condition and the surgery. She nods politely as I explain, grimacing when I mention the coma, it's hard to tell if she really cares. _Or if her concern is purely courtesy. _

"Are you on your way back to see him?" she asks as I lift the carefully balanced bowl to my lips, taking a sip of the still warm liquid.

With my mouth full I shrug.

"Anxious?"

"Yeah, I guess," I reply, realising how much I've been putting off going to see him. _It's not that I don't want to be there for him. _But I don't know if I will be able to hold myself together, to be the person my parents need me to be. What if, seeing him like that breaks me?

"Before I left for Japan, I was so nervous that I almost turned around at the airport and got a taxi straight back home."

I nod politely, not sure where she intends to go with this.

"Well, look, all I'm trying to say is that even though something makes you feel rotten, you might regret not doing it," she peters out at the end, apparently unsure if she's overstepped the mark or not.

"Sorry," she mumbles, "I guess its not really the same thing."

"No, it;s okay," I reply, "I just, well, I thought the surgery would be the tipping point, you know. I thought if he could get through the night he would be fine, but now I'm not so sure."

Julie nods.

"Well he's made it through once, no reason he won't do it again. Not if he has your stubbornness."

I chuckle softly, finishing the last of my rice. Sometimes I think you've already decided the route your going to take in your head, but you need someone to bounce off to confirm your making the right choice.

"Would you like me to walk you down to intensive care?" she asks softly, catching me off guard.

"Could you?"

"Of course," she gets to her feet, brushing toast crumbs from the front of her pink scrubs.

Following her gratefully my phantom hand starts to twist and contort, sending wave after wave of pain shooting into my chest. It feels like the closer we get to my father the more my body resists, as if there were a giant magnet repelling me.

_I hope I'm doing the right thing, for everyone's sake. _

— — —

The intensive care unit resembles the experimentation bay of some alien spaceship. A series of glass walls separates the area into rooms, each containing ultra modern looking metal beds and numerous monitors and screens protruding from the all on clean metal arms. You get a feeling of a lot of money having been spent very recently. This place is the optimally of cold and clinical.

_I can't imagine a worse place to die. _

Julie leaves me at the head of the corridor with a reassuring squeeze of the shoulder - must be an Australian thing - and a promise to try and hunt down a charger for my phone. Somehow I doubt she'll be successful; it's not exactly a recent model.

Nurses, dressed in green scrubs with their mouths covered slip seamlessly between glass cells, doing their level best not to notice me; lest I might disturb their important work with stupid questions. Walking down the corridor I check each room, looking for a familiar face while at the same time trying not to stare any longer than I have to. _Most of the people here look like they are on the very brink of death. _

I find my father in the very last cubicle, he's not alone. Mum and Miss Kita sit to one side of the bed on uncomfortable plastic chairs, while to my surprise the rugged muscular frame of my grandfather sits looking ridiculously out of place opposite them.

Dad looks even more lost in his bed than last time, his head wrapped in thick white bandages. He looks like he's sleeping, peaceful and relaxed, but knowing the truth turns the image before me into a sickening parody of sleep. _The heart monitor's gentle beeps are the only signs that he is truly alive. _

"Grandad," I say, walking over to him; my voice shaking.

We embrace in a one armed hug.

"Miki, I tried to contact you but I couldn't get through?" he says, more worry than anger on his voice.

"My phone is flat, I'm okay, just needed a little time."

"I understand, I'm sorry I couldn't be here sooner."

"No, it's-" I pause for a moment, looking into his warm eyes, "I'm glad you're here."

And I mean it, my grandfather has always been a veritable rock, supporting not only me, but my mother as well. With him here I feel a sudden relief flood into my chest. It's like diving into deep water only to find there is a buoyancy aid not far off, I can tread water for awhile, but when it gets too much I can swim to relative safety.

I take the seat next to him, folding my arms in front of me on the soft bed and watching dad, hoping that at any moment he's going to wake up and smile at me. _I think I've been watching too many of Ryouta's movies. _

"Have they said anything more?" I ask no one in particular.

"They say the tumour was benign, so it's not cancerous," my grandad answers quickly.

"Thank god," mum adds, I notice she has knitting needles in her hands and is attempting to follow Miss Kita.

"That's really good, so he will be better when he wakes up?" I ask, smiling brightly as the joyful news fills my chest.

"I would not quite go that far, if your father wakes up its going to be a long recovery," grandad says, eyes flicker to my father. "He has had brain surgery after all."

"Oh, well I'll be here for him when he wakes up." I reply resolutely.

"You have exams coming up Miki." A stern note creeps into his voice.

_So? _What possible meaning could exams have when compared to my father's life? They don't matter, it's not like I would even pass them anyway, and mum will need me at home. I should probably just take the rest of the term off to help out, then if dad's doing better. _Because he will wake up, I know that now. _I can go to Ikuno's for summer then return for the last term of school.

"Did you hear me?" Grandad asks, disturbing my planing.

"Are they really that important?" I say offhandedly.

"Yes!" he snaps, causing me to sit up and stare at him.

"Miki, these exams reflect on your performance at school and can affect the university entry exams."

I snort in derision, if there's one thing I'm sure of it's that I will not be attending a university. For one thing I'm not smart enough, and for another I have much bigger problems than my education. _Though even I can't say that the alternatives are very tempting. _Either a dead end job, or worse, a concrete cell.

"Don't you give me that look young lady, you are going back to school if I have to drag you there by your shoelaces."

"Like to see you try," I mutter.

He very clearly flexes his muscles under his thin white shirt. _Show off. _

"Well, I run faster than you," I say, not giving him an inch. _An argument is not what I had envisioned at breakfast. _

"Enough!" Mum says with a force to her voice I didn't know she had. "Miki, you will go back to school and dad, you can at least give her a week can't you?"

"Yes, mum." I mumble, her outburst so shocking it knocks all the fight out of me.

"Well, I suppose I can get the school to fax through her worksheets to be competed here, but only a week mind."

Grandad and me share a look, like too naughty children. I give him a weak smile, which he returns with a familiar twinkle in his soft eyes.

Tutting, but clearly proud of herself, mum goes back to her knitting.

— — —

Days pass in a seemingly endless blur, each moment as boring as the next. After three full days in intensive care dad is moved back to the room he was in when first admitted, though he has shown no signs of coming round. The room is at least more comfortable than the cold impersonal glass cell the floor below.

Mum and I have formed a kind of honour guard, keeping a near constant vigil at dad's bedside, with only brief respites when grandad drags us home to shower and get a few hours sleep. I've started to get used to living on junk food, even if it is making me feel incredibly fat I have a certain amount of nostalgia for my cities take away joints. _A reminder of when I had to fend for myself, before Yamaku. _

True to his word grandad arrives each morning with a fresh pile of worksheets. Having claimed the comfortable armchair as mine, I spend long hours using the wide windowsill as a desk, trying to decrypt increasingly difficult homework. Happily I don't have to do it alone, coming through after only half a day Julie managed to find a phone charger for me. _Borrowed from one on the nurses in radiology apparently._

"This is impossible I grumble," hearing familiar snorts of laughter from Hisao and Ikuno on the other end of the phone. What started out as a desperate text for english help from Hisao has turned into a sort of conference call study club. Not that I mind, Ryouta needs nearly as much help as I do, and it's nice being able to talk to my friends everyday; even when the subject matter isn't very interesting.

"It's not so bad," Hisao says, I can almost see the warm smile on his face. "You already know most of this, it's just putting it together in a way that makes sense."

"Right…" I look at the maths problem again, right if thats that, and I do that to that, then. _Oh nice! _I read my answer back and for once manage not to embarrass myself. _I will have a week of exams with publicly posted results for that._

"Told you, you could do it!" Hisao says as Ikuno adds her own encouragement.

"Err, Miki?" Ikuno says, a hint of shyness deflating her voice. "You're meant to be coming back tonight right?"

I grimace, it's Saturday, more than a week since I was pulled out of class. _I had hoped, perhaps stupidly, that dad would be awake by now. _I don't think I can get out of traveling back tonight, but I'm feeling increasingly uneasy about leaving dad like this and no amount of talking will convince mum or grandad that I should stay back and help.

"Yeah, I guess, dad's not awake yet, so I don't really know."

I ended up telling them about dad, even though it feels personal. Ikuno, I would have told anyway and she would have told Ryouta whether I wanted her to or not. Having had to cancel our date I felt I owed Hisao an explanation, boyfriend and girlfriends are meant to share stuff right? _I trust him._

"Well, if you do get back tonight come see me okay? I will stay up late anyway to study." Ikuno says softly.

"Of course, now I was having a bit of trouble working out the next question."

"You mean question two?" Ryouta asks with a snort of laughter.

"Yes, that would be the one…"

"Miki, come on you're going to be late." Grandad says from the doorway.

I'm dressed to travel and my bag is packed, but I'm not ready to go. Instead I lean over dad's bed, tears running down my face.

"I'm sorry," I whisper, "I don't want to leave you, but I don't have a choice."

I take his cold hand, being mindful not to disturb the drip buried into his wrinkled flesh. _Can I really leave him like this? _Pressing the back of his hand against my wet cheek I close my eyes, trying to will myself to stand up. To turn away. _I can't. _

"Miki, please," my grandfather repeats, his voice is not unkind. But he's been able to detach himself from this whole situation from the start; I don't think he really understands how this feels.

In my imagination the heart monitor picks up its steady beat slightly, and his hand twitches in mine. _Wait. _I open my eyes quickly, as with a slow grogginess, so does my father. Staring at me clearly confused, but beautifully, wonderfully awake.

_I don't know if the universe has my back, or it's just playing a very long con, but for the moment, I'm happy._


	28. Study

_Thanks for all the nice comments, as well as all the follows and favourites. Really helps to keep me motivated! Anyway, on with the show. _

—

"So then what happened?" Ikuno asks excitedly on the other end of the phone, as I take in the morning sunrise from a behind a dusty train window.

"Well, after dad woke up all the doctors and nurses rushed in and did the normal doctor stuff, you know tests." I say, trying to keep my voice down. _Not that it really matters. _The first train of the day is deserted.

"Is he okay?"

"Not really," I mumble, "He's having a hard time talking, and they said he is going to have to learn to walk again."

"Ah, that sucks," Ikuno says consolingly, "But he's alive right? He can only get better from here, can't he?"

"I hope so," I say stifling a yawn behind my stump.

"So what time are you due in? Ikuno asks, mischief in her voice.

I'm surprised she's this awake and alert at five thirty in the morning, then again with me being away she probably managed to get some peaceful nights. I had texted her to let her know I was on my way back assuming she was asleep, the next thing I know she's ringing me.

"Seven-ish I think, this train stops at like every station." I say a tad grumpily. This last week has been exhausting both emotionally and physically, I want nothing more than to collapse into bed and sleep for a thousand years.

"Oh, the Shanghai opens around then, you wanna grab a drink?"

"I was going to go to bed," I say feebly, guilt washing over me for dashing her eagerness. _It's like scolding a puppy. _

"You should try and stay awake," she says with authority, "Otherwise your sleep schedule will be ruined for exam week."

I had almost forgotten my reason for returning to school. Tomorrow is the last day allowed for study, then the rest of the week will be filled with grilling exam after grilling exam. _All of which I am woefully unprepared for. _

"Fine," I grumble, "Why are you awake anyway?"

"Study, you know my brother and sister both aced these tests right?" There's a hint of genuine panic in her voice.

I feel a stab of guilt, I should have remembered Ikuno's determination to prove herself to her highly successful siblings - and by extension her babying parents. _I guess in our own ways we both have family problems. _

"But neither of them would be there for me like you are," I smile to myself, "Meet you at the station?"

"Sure, we can work on operation keep Miki awake, I have a few ideas."

_Uh oh. _

"Why am I thinking awful movies might be heading my way."

"… But they are the directors cuts!"

— — —

"See this is why life's unfair, we only get to run for about an hour, but we have to revise for like… a hundred hours." I complain, copying out my English phrases onto test cards; a numbingly mindless task.

"True, but no one said life was going to be fair huh?" Hisao replies, his cards completed and already stacked neatly in front of him. _Show off. _

My boyfriend and I have spent a lot of time together since I got back yesterday. To my surprise Ryouta had invited him to watch the movie with us, a kind of last hurrah before the exams started. To my delight he was just as incredulous at the on screen action as me, and we passed most of the movie quietly whispering to each other.

However once the end credits started to roll the exams were the only topic of conversation on anyones lips, or more specifically my lack of preparation for the exams. Hence why I'm in Hisao's sparsely decorated bedroom at gone midnight. _Not that I mind staying up late with my boyfriend, I just wish it was for something more fun than revision._

Stretching my arms over my head, I marvel at the contrast of my dark skin against his perfectly while bedsheets. Hisao, as it turns out, is a neat freak to a degree I did not think possible for a boy. Every aspect of his room from his wardrobe to his neatly arranged pill bottles is spotless. _I feel like I'm making the place untidy with my presence. _

_Then again his room lacks that authentic lived in feel that Ryouta and I pull off so well with our own organised chaos. _

"How are you doing?" Hisao asks in English.

I try to subtly adjust my bra under my school shirt, these things were not meant for extended use. _Well not for me anyway. _

"Hmm, bad," I answer in my own malformed English, I don't think 'bad' is really the word I should be using, but I can't think of any better ones this late at night.

"Whats up?" he asks, switching back to Japanese.

"This might be too much information, but bras get really uncomfortable when you wear them all day," I say distractedly, trying to find where I got to in my revision card writing.

Hisao is quiet for a long time, I look up in case talk of my underwear broke him.

"Well, if you, you know," he rubs the back of his neck with his hand, blushing bright red, "If you want to take it off, I mean, I don't mind."

"Ha, I think you need to take me on at least one date before you get me out of my underwear, don't you?" I place my hands, well hand, on my hips trying to look stern. _The effect is rather ruined by my stump making it look like my arm has disappeared into my side. _

"No. no!" he protests quickly, panic in his voice, "I meant if you wanted to be more comfortable."

"I know," I laugh softly, he really is sweet. Though I can't help but watch his eyes drift down from my face. _Boys._

I finish up my last two cards. English isn't my worst subject, but I'm not exactly good at it. _It would be easier if we just made all the English speakers learn Japanese. _

We spend the next half hour reading phrases back and forth between us, the reader being marked on their pronunciation and the listener trying to translate the often scrambled messages. I wouldn't call it fun, but it rounds the day off in at least a semi-enjoyable way.

I put down my last card with a smile. _I did better than I thought I would. _

"You're getting better," Hisao says, covering his mouth as he yawns.

"You're not so bad yourself," I say, delighting at the dimples that materialise as he grins at me.

"Thanks." With a large effort he gets to his feet, grunting with the strain. _He sounds like an old man. _"You want me to walk you back?" He offers me his right hand, before realising I can't hold on with my left and swapping, an embarrassed blush on his face.

"Nah, you get some sleep." I smirk, letting him help me up. "You look like you need it."

I hold onto his hand a little longer than is really necessary, enjoying the feeling of his soft hand in mine.

"You sure?" He says, regretfully parting his warm hand with mine.

"I've walked around more dangerous places than Yamaku on my own at night, I can handle it."

"Really?" his sleepy eyes seem to reawaken with curiosity.

"Umm hmm," I reply, not sure if this is the right time to bring up my past. _I'm not sure there is a right time for a past as messed up and confusing as mine. _I've been trying to build up the courage to tell him more about myself. It hasn't been going well.

"I'll tell you all about it when each other is the only thing we have to worry about." I say, impressed by my own quick thinking.

_Though I'm not sure when in my life I'm expecting to have only Hisao to worry about. _

"Deal," he replies approvingly, eyeing his bed.

"Well, goodnight." I say, moving slowly towards the door.

"Oh goodnight," he says as we awkwardly face each other.

Touch was such an essential part of being with Ayumu, but with Hisao it's different. I don't know what level of physical contact he's comfortable with, and I don't think that will be changing anytime soon. _He's not exactly forward about his feelings. _I mean he becomes flustered and blushes enough to assure me he is interested in more than hand holding, but he's not going to be the one to insinuate anything more intimate.

Before I can embarrass myself any further I fumble with his door, stepping out into the much cooler corridor. Hisao's smiling face is the last thing I see before his door clicks shut. Catching movement in the corner of my eye I turn, coming face to face with a very strange sight.

A boy, a little shorter than me stands frozen in the corridor, a pair of thick glasses balanced on his nose and a thick scarf wrapped around his neck; though it's hardly the weather for it. Long moments seem to tick by as we stare at each other, he stands frozen like a deer in a headlight, while I look on awkwardly.

_This is insane._

"Good evening," I say softly, mindful not to disturb my boyfriend. _He's told me enough to know these two don't get on. _

"Is he dead?" the boy - who I assume is Hisao's hallmate - asks, not bothering to lower his voice.

"What?" I ask, surprised.

"Well, I won't go down without a fight, I knew this day would come!" Suddenly he hops backwards, raising one knee like a ninja he holds a book above his head while a plastic bag swings madly from his other arm, its contents clinking. _Hisao never said he was violent. _

"I haven't killed Hisao!" I say quickly, suddenly feeling afraid. _That book looks heavy. _"I'm his girlfriend, we were just studying."

"Ah, so you lured him in with the promise of love, before killing him in cold blood! That's the oldest feminist trick in the book."

I suddenly feel very sorry for Hisao having to live next to this.

"Look I'm not a feminist," I say, "Or a killer!" I add as an afterthought, though it isn't strictly true. _Not helping brain. _

"What is going on?" Hisao says opening his door behind me.

_Oh thank goodness. _

"Sup' man, you're alive?"

"Kenji, what the hell are you doing?"

_So his name Kenji, until now I thought it was something much ruder._

"Defending you man, she was here to kill you!" He speaks as if it's the most obvious thing in the world, still in his ridiculous ninja stance.

"You're insane, she's not trying to kill anyone. Wait." Hisao looks at him as if seeing him for the first time, "Were you going to attack her?"

"A man has to defend himself, man… it was her or me!"

"Can I just repeat I'm not a feminist assassin or whatever the hell you think I am?" I say, my voice shaking softly as blood thunders through my veins. _I hadn't realised how scared I was until Hisao intervened. _

"Thats sounds like a feminist assassin lie to me man, you need to be more careful about the kind of girls you're taking to bed dude, didn't you get my vetted list?"

"Yes," Hisao says darkly, 'I did."

I've never heard Hisao like this before, he is a steaming pot of anger ready to burst at any second. _So much for not being forward with his feelings._ I have no idea how to resolve this situation, I mean I'm not completely opposed to Hisao fighting Kenji in a kind of gladiatorial display for my love. But with his heart condition It's really out of the question. _I know Kenji has poor vision, but I don't fancy my chances of sneaking past him. _

"She says she studying man, what kinda crazy excuse is that?" Kenji says, looking in my general direction with a look like he's just won something.

"We have exams," Hisao growls.

"What!" Kenji exclaims, dropping the book to thud loudly on the floor. Standing normally again he turns in my boyfriend direction, his face red.

"How could you have not have known?" I ask, stepping a little closer to Hisao incase I need to break up a fight.

"You didn't tell me man! You cruel mean hearted bastard."

I don't know if I should laugh or not as Hisao pushes his face into his upturned palms. _I can't believe this, it's almost beyond all reason - I've found someone more loud and insane than Misha. _

"Well haven't you been to class?" Hisao says, looking up at Kenji with a frown.

"No, dude I'm busy."

"With what?" I ask curiously.

"Don't-" Hisao warns, but is cut off by a bust of sound from his hall mate.

"Preparing for the summer holidays of course! what else? The enemy knows I will be staying at school, so that's when they will strike!" He shakes his plastic bag again, producing another glass on glass clink. "I've been gathering supplies so I won't have to leave my room for the entire vacation."

_Ewww, this guy isn't going to shower for four weeks? _

"Whatever, exams are tomorrow, can I trust you not to attack Miki?" Hisao says, his patience at an end. _There are, in my experience, two types of sleepy people. The zombie, sluggish and dead to the world like me and grump, extremely irritable and prone to explode if unable to get to bed. Hisao is definitely a grump when he's extremely tired. _

"Sure man, if you trust her." There's something in his voice, a kind of shyness that wasn't there before.

Hisao watches us for a few moments, before wishing me a goodnight and retreating to his room. I stare at his door for a few moments, I didn't know he could get that angry. _I'm not so sure I like it. _I could never claim not to be a hot head on occasion, but my anger is more like gunpowder quick to ignite and quick to extinguish. Hisao though, he's like a pressure tank being slowly filled, a devastating bomb of anger if he's pushed too far. _Has he always been like this? Or has the dark mood he came to Yamaku with mutated? _

The scrap of a bottle lid being unscrewed withdraws me from my reverie. I turn to face the direction of the noise, only to find Kenji with a bottle of whisky pressed to his lips. _I wasn't expecting that. _Now I realise what was clinking in his plastic bag, questions suddenly fill my mind.

"Where did you get that?"

Kenji lowers his bottle. I can smell the strong liquor from across the hall, it reminds me forcibly of home.

"Ah! thats top secret! I will take the knowledge to my grave!" Kenji splutters defiantly.

"Well, you have no car, neither the bus or the train run this late and the only open store in town is the Aura mart." I say with a grin, impressed with my own deductions. _I should be a detective. _

Kenji stares at me, or at least in my rough direction.

"Did you steal it?" I ask hesitantly, unable to take my eyes of the amber liquid. _How can something that's done so much damage look so tempting?_

"No! I have comrades in the field willing to hook me up!"

"So someone sells it to you?" I ask, trying to work my way through his cryptic way of speaking.

"Of course, just go after midnight and bring extra cash," he says distractedly, squirting down to try and locate his book with outstretched hands.

"Here," I say retrieving his book for him, a dangerous idea sitting uncomfortably in the back of my head.

"Waaaagah!" he cries as I hand him his discarded book, which interestingly happens to be about commando raids of the second world war. _I hope he's not planning to raid the girls' dorms. _

"Shhhh," I say, worried he's going to wake Hisao again. "Do you need help getting into your room?"

"Nah, it's cool man, thanks."

He's definitely distracted, like my mother when she was engrossed in some TV show, which in her drunken state, was more important than anything else. _I feel a little worried about leaving him to be honest. _He's clearly not right in the head, and I doubt very much alcohol will improve things.

"Okay," I say tentatively, "Goodnight."

He doesn't acknowledge me as I walk past him, stopping at the end of the corridor to watch him fumble with his bedroom door before he manages to slip inside, the sound of multiple locks being fastened follow me down the dimly lit stairwell. I should be feeling tired, but my mind is awash with thoughts.

_Hisao might not be the stable safe distraction I wanted, the prospect of drinking is terrifyingly tempting, and I don't think I can remember a single English phrase I've meant to have learned. Fuck. _

— — —

"You have one and a half hours to complete the exam, there is to be no talking and mobile phones are strictly forbidden," our English teacher announces from the front of the classroom. The faded flag above her head flutters as a light breeze floats through the windows, bringing with it the smell of freshly cut grass.

_I wonder how much trouble I would get in if I got up now and left, probably more than it's worth - plus I bet they would still make me sit this stupid test. _

Looking around the classroom I catch Ikuno's eye, she gives me a warm confident smile. _Though I can tell she's worried. _Must be nice to have "not quite aceing the test" as a worry, I'm not convinced I will be able to understand the first question.

Feigning a smile I let my eyes wander further around the room. Misaki is biting the end of her pen, her brace holding her in an upright position that portrays a confidence that I don't think she has. _Well at least I'm not the only one. _Behind me the newspaper club girls are whispering to each other, while a little way away Hanako hides behind a mop of shiny hair. _Making her perform a separate oral test seems a bit cruel, but I suppose she's not the only person at Yamaku with speech problems. _

On the other side of the classroom Shizune sits cross legged and looking supremely confident, her pink haired accomplice on the other hand looks like she's about to cry. _That's interesting, the class president hasn't helped her best lackey revise? _My gaze rests on her for a moment before Hisao catches my eye, he winks across the classroom just as our teacher finishes saying whatever it was she was saying. _Hope it wasn't important. _

"You may begin."

_Right, right. Focus now… _

_I should have made a run for it when I had the chance. _

— — —

"Well I didn't think that was so bad," Hisao says brightly, his barely contained rage from last night appearing to have vanished.

"I think I did okay," I reply softly, "Better than I thought I would anyway.

Together with Ikuno and Ryouta the four of us stride out of the main building, our shadows rendered almost invisible by a glowing sun positioned almost directly overhead. A gentle wind playing at the hem of my skirt and the end of my pony tail, acting to keep the air at a perfect temperature for relaxing. _Or revision, which I imagine is more likely to feature in my immediate future. _

"Did you see question nine?" Ryouta asks excitedly, stopping a little ahead of us.

I share a look with Hisao. Question nine? All I remember is a lot of English words that started to blur into one unorganised mess around the third page in. Judging by the shrug, my boyfriend is none the wiser.

"Yes!" Ikuno exclaims a bright smile on her face, "They can't have done that on purpose though could they?"

"Nah, I doubt it. But it's cool." Ryouta replies, hooking Ikuno's arm with his stump.

"Either of you want to tell me what the hell you're on about?" I ask as we once again resume our march to my favourite tree. _It's not the oldest, it's not the most beautiful and no cherry blossoms grace it's branches. But that's why I like it, it's happy being what it is, it doesn't need to be special. _

I jump when Hisao's fingertips touch the side of my palm, forcing the thoughts of trees out of my mind with the force of a cannon.

"Sorry!" He says quickly, rubbing the back of his neck; soft cheeks flushed red.

"No, no," I say just as fast, reaching out to take his hand while I still have a chance. "You just took me by surprise is all."

I entangle my fingers with his. A warmth speeds to my cheeks as our slightly sweaty palms touch, his soft warm hand is just how I remember it from my dreams. People stare as we walk down the path, but I find myself not caring. I'm used to people's inability to keep their eyes to themselves, at least this time they are transfixed by something that's making me happy.

"See, the love birds weren't even listening!" Ryouta calls happily, looking over his shoulder at us.

"Ohhhh!" Ikuno simpers in delight, spinning around to look at us.

I consider just making a run for it as the blood rushes to my cheeks and by the way Hisao is staring at his feet - cheeks equally flushed - I bet he would join me. _Stupid, stupid… how did we end up holding hands anyway? _However neither of us make an effort to pull apart, it's such a small thing but my friends reaction shows just how big a step this is in our relationship. _And I'm still not entirely sure how we got here. _

"We were listening, it's just we got a little distracted is all." I say, much to Ryouta and Ikuno's delight.

"Question nine was a reference to one of the movies we watched a few weeks back Miki," Ikuno adds quickly, keen not to leave me out of the loop.

"You mean to tell me those stupid movies were actually relevant for a test?" I say as we hit the narrow patch of grass before our tree.

"Those movies are not stupid," Ryouta says flopping onto the ground with his normal lack of grace, "They are art."

"A girl running away from a monster in her underwear is not art Ryouta." I say calmly, settling down against the tree.

"Girl's running around in underwear is the purest form of art," Ryouta protests as Hisao sits down between us, looking uncomfortable at the topic of discussion.

"Excuse me?" Ikuno asks, taking a seat beside her boyfriend.

"My sweetie running around in her underwear is the purest form of art."

"And does she often run around in her undies for you?" I ask curiously.

"Well-" Ryouta makes to answer but is cut off by Ikuno's hand being forced over his mouth.

"Answer that and you won't be seeing any of me for the foreseeable future."

Laughing I dig through my bag I pull out my maths textbook, which seems to have grown ten times thicker than when I last saw it. _Great. _

"Have you decided yet if you're staying with Miki for the first part of the summer vacation, Hisao?" Ikuno asks, releasing her boyfriend with a stern glare.

I look up quickly, truth be told we had not really discussed our plans for summer, other than visiting Ikuno's family. Mostly because with Ryouta and Ikuno there, the whole trip could be passed off as something done as friends. However visiting each others families feel much more intimate, like its the kind of thing only a couple would do - and I don't know if we are at that stage yet.

_I would have to trust him enough to show him part of myself, moreover a part that I could never hide nor embellish - it's an unnerving thought. _

"Err…" Hisao mumbles, looking to me for help.

"We've not decided yet, it's no big deal." I say, hoping the answer will satisfy them.

"Are you at least taking Miki somewhere nice on your first date?" Ryouta says happy, a stupid smile playing on his lips.

I've missed that smile. Ryouta and I have not spoken of that night a few weeks ago, where he saw how weak and pathetic I am after a 's not the type to think less of me for something like that, but nonetheless I've felt awkward around my pudgy friend since.

"It's a secret," Hisao answers softly, for some reason he shares a knowing glance with Ikuno before opening his textbook.

_Blah, I hate surprises - which, if Ikuno has had anything to do with it, would be why I'm getting one. _

"Just a friendly word of advice, strip clubs are not the little ladies first choice." Ryouta answers knowingly, trying to keep the smirk off of us face.

"Like they would even let you into a strip club!" I laugh, digging through my textbook. _Maths sucks. _

"I'll have you know that though I'm graced with a beautiful boyish face I carry myself with the poise and style of a man twice my age."

We continue to bicker for a while longer before Ikuno's irritable glances turn our minds back to revision. _It's amazing how fast normal can return. _A week ago it felt like my world was ending, that nothing would ever be the same. But I was wrong, life keeps ticking by unperturbed by my presence, like a pebble flung into rapids. _If I don't battle the current, find a safe path through the dark water, I will drown. _

But for now I'm content to lay in the dappled sun under my favourite tree, trying to understand a textbook that defies comprehension. _I really do hate maths. _


	29. A Death of Dreams…

A death of dreams…

"It's time. Pens down and turn your papers over please."

I start as Mutou speaks, almost headbutting the science paper just a few inches from my nose. Recovering myself I check my last answer with a groan of trepidation - luckily it looks just about right - before turning over my sheet. _Well that went better than I expected. _

Every fibre of my being bends and creaks as I sit up straight. _I need a run._ Stifling a yawn behind my stump I look around the classroom, the students of room 3-3 look in equal parts exhausted and ecstatic, this was the very last exam. Before us lies an endless summer of freedom. _Or another pointless week of school, followed by six weeks of vacation before we are thrown headfirst into college exam preparations. _I guess it depends how you look at it.

"How did you do?" Ikuno asks, stretching her arms above her head with a satisfying crack.

"Good, I think," I reply with a smile, feeling the soft breeze ripple my hair - the outside world is calling to me.

"Wow, Hisao must be a good tutor! I've never heard you actually confident about an exam before."

"Well, I only think I did well." I say shyly, my cheeks warming.

Ikuno laughs, her deep eyes sparkling as the chatter in the classroom slowly picks up. Glancing in Hisao's direction I find him deep in conversation with Shizune via Misha. Wrinkling my nose in annoyance I try and get my boyfriend's attention, but it's fruitless. To her credit Shizune seems to have accepted our relationship with good grace, or at least she's not been any more or less hostile towards me. _However nothing will ever stop the president ordering about her troops. She's probably trying to get Hisao stationed in the student council room for the entire summer. _

"Are you free after class?" Ikuno asks with feigned innocence; she already knows the answer.

"Yeah," I say slowly, elongating the word, "Why?"

"We should go to the city, have a little rest and relaxation shopping."

_I knew she was up to something. _

"Shopping is neither restful nor relaxing," I say, raising my eyebrow at her.

"But it's fun!" Ikuno giggles as Mutou collects our papers, "Plus you need some new clothes for your date."

"I have clothes," I protest.

"Not to be rude Miki but your clothes are so old they are not even last year, they are like last decade."

"Maybe I just appreciate the classics?"

"Yes, well nothing from the classic collection is suitable for your date." She says evenly.

"Where the hell is Hisao going to take me that requires new clothes?"

"Just trust me, it will be fun," she giggles standing up with the rest of our class.

"It will be expensive," I grimace.

"That's what makes it fun!"

A few moments later we are dismissed, and the class rushes for the door. Ikuno and I hang back waiting for Hisao, who gets skittish in crowds. _Not that I'm a fan of being crushed by sweaty bodies either. _

"How did it go?" he asks, falling into step beside me and Ikuno.

I share my optimism that I achieved at least a passing grade as the three of us walk the short distance to Ryouta's classroom, whose students have yet to be released.

"That's great, do you have plans for this afternoon?" He asks, a soft smile crossing his face.

"Sorry lover-boy," Ikuno interjects, "I'm taking her to the city so she looks beautiful for your date."

"She already looks beautiful," Hisao says, seemingly without thinking.

_Awwwww. _

"Oooooohhh," Ikuno giggles, "That's so sweet!"

I punch her arm softly, "Shut it..."

Heat rushes to my cheeks as I meet Hisao's eyes. He stands awkwardly, bashful embarrassment etched onto his face.

"Thank you," I say softly, taking his warm hand in mine. A smile creeps onto my lips as I stare into his perfect copper eyes.

"Will you be okay by yourself?" I ask softly, drawing closer a touch of mischief on my mind.

_Finishing exams puts you in a good mood._

A nervous smirk speeds across his face, and he looks at his feet, his blush intensifying.

"I will have to find someway to amuse myself," he says softly, "Though, I doubt it will be as fun as spending time with you."

_I wonder how mad Ikuno would be if I bailed on her… _

"Miki! You're acting as if you were a girl, what has this boy done to you?" Ryouta announces from beside me.

Hisao and I spring apart so quickly I nearly stumble. _So much for that wonderful moment. _

"Ryouta!" Ikuno shouts, stamping her foot. "Don't be so horrible, they are adorable together."

Her scolding falls on deaf ears, as Ryouta laughs dodging my punch. _Damn it, for a chunky guy he's fast. _

Shrugging at Hisao in an apologetic kind of way I hoist my bag higher onto my shoulder. Lucky he seems to be more embarrassed than upset by Ryouta's stupidity.

Since his reaction to Kenji the other night I've been watching him more diligently, wondering if the meltdown that seemed so close to the surface will re-emerge. _Though what good my watchful eye will do I still don't know. _

"They both do this creepy middle distance staring thing as well," Ryouta observes conversationally to Ikuno.

"It's called thinking," I say, "You should try it sometime smart arse."

"Are you ready to go Miki?" Ikuno says, eyeing the stairs with a longing I hadn't noticed before. _I guess she's been pretty stressed this week. _Regardless of what she says this city trip is as much for her as it is for me.

"Let's go." I grin.

_Hisao and I have a whole day to ourselves on the horizon, but for now i'm duty bound to be enthusiastic about this shopping trip. And who knows, it might be fun… this one time. _

— — —

"_This was because of you!" Hisao roars, his eyes wide and intense. With one hard shove he pushes me backwards into the wreckage of the truck he had just pulled me from. _

"_No, please I didn't…" I say desperately, throwing out my hands to stop myself from being impaled on the jagged metal. Only to squeal in horror as my left hand starts to blister and burn, tearing itself apart as if some parasite were hatching within my blackened flesh. _

"_Help!" _

_My voice is lost in the roar of an engine. I look up quickly, only to be blinded by the lights of an all too familiar grey prison bus. I think I can hear Hisao's cruel laugh as everything goes black. _

I wake up, pain flowing though my arm like molten lava. My first instinct is to scream, to try and pull away from the pain that exists purely within my own broken head. _Damn it! _Kicking off the covers I flip myself onto my stomach, sinking my teeth into the pillow and my stump into my stomach.

With a sound like a wounded bear I scream into a mouthful of material, tasting my own cold sweat on the threadbare martial. The phantom of my hand bends and twists, crushing and burning with cruel delight as I try desperately to take my mind off of the pain. _This isn't fair, this isn't fucking fair. _

Trying to distract myself I glance at the clock, which does nothing to improve my mood, it's only a little after midnight. I have hours of crushing darkness before I can escape to the track. _Why does this keep happening? _Is my mind trying to tell me something? A grainy image, like a photo damaged by water pops into my head of the rage in Hisao's eyes when he pushed me away, it was terrifying.

_It wasn't real. _

I'm just massively overreacting to a side of Hisao I didn't expect to see. He's never ever raised his voice to me, in fact most of the time he's shy and reserved, more on a level with Ikuno than Ryouta's and my boisterousness. _So why was his snarling face etched into my mind, like a brand burnt into flesh. _

With my thoughts chasing each other around my head I lie in a defeated heap, until the pain in my ghost limb starts to slowly subside into nothingness. Finally with only a dull ache to remind me of the phantom's wrath I sit up, sliding to the edge of my bed.

Pressing my toes into the soft carpet I glance at the clothes Ikuno and I picked out for my date. It was actually a surpassingly fun shopping trip, dragging Ikuno round the cheaper parts of the city shopping district to put together an ensemble that she described as 'Thrift shop chic'. Though I have no idea what that means I managed to find an outfit I liked. A pair of black leggings mixed with torn off denim shorts and a band t-shirt for a group I had never heard of, but appreciated their cover art nonetheless.

_They are clothes that remind me of home, comfortable with the tiniest hint of rebellion - I just hope Hisao likes them as well._

Climbing out of bed I make it as far as my office chair before collapsing back down with an audible complaint from the seat.

Not thinking I flick on my slightly dented desk lamp, the sudden flash of light blinding me. _Gah. _Blinking rapidly I open my eyes, letting them adjust to the glare reflected from the paper strewn desk. _I can't keep living like this._ Robotically I pull a blank sheet of paper towards me, holding it in place with my naked stump, before grabbing a pen from the pot beside the lamp.

_It would be so easy to do. _I can almost picture the words forming in my head: 'I confess to the killing of Tatsuo Takahashi…"

All I have to do is confess and all of this goes away, the nightmares and phantom pain stop forever. Hisao and the others will move on with their lives, justice is served, Tatsuo's family gets closure, and I rot away in a forgotten cell.

_I deserve whatever punishment I get. _

But I can't do it, the pen stays immobile in my sweaty hand. For a long time I simply stare at the paper, hoping beyond hope for an answer to a question I don't want to ask. _Because there's a very real possibility that confessing will only end up with me having nightmares in prison completely alone, instead of in school surrounded by friends. _

"Fuck!" I whisper harshly, throwing my pen onto the desk with a loud clatter before leaning back to rub my eyes, tears cutting fiery paths on my cheeks. _I should just try and go back to sleep. _But it's a laughable idea, my mind is too full, and my body too tense, I need something to distract me.

Pulling my mismatched limbs away from my face I glance out of the window at the silvery moon, a dangerous idea forcing itself to the front of my mind. It's risky, irresponsible and downright insane - but if Hisao's hallmate is telling the truth - I might be able to find not only a distraction, but a cure with a late night visit to the Aura mart.

— — —

The night air stings my face as I tentatively push open the fire escape at the rear of the girls dormitories. Ikuno shared this particular exploit for getting in and out of the building while she was galavanting with Ryouta, though I doubt she was the first one to use it. Beside the doorstep lies a small rock, used by generations of miscreants to ensure safe passage back to bed. Jamming the door I flick my hood up over my head.

_This is a bad idea. _

My heart starts to thunder as I make my way around the quiet building. Interestingly a few of the girls still have their lights on, judging from the soft glow escaping around their curtains. _Nice to know I'm not the only one unable to sleep. _My breath catches in my throat as I peer around the corner at the main entrance to the dormitories, standing half illuminated by a security light two figures stand, their poses relaxed as they casually chat, the tips of their cigarettes glowing like stars in the darkness.

_Oh, this was such a bad idea. _

It's fine, I can handle this - it's hardly the first time I've been out of bed at unusual times.

I could try and sneak past them, but I think I make a better secret agent in my head than In real life. No, there is only really one real option. _I really hope this works. _Taking a few steps back, I gulp, before setting off at what I hope is a confident jog.

As expected the two men spot me at once, my footfalls easily detectable in the silent air. To my amusement both men hastily put out their cigarettes as the space between us closes.

Hidden in shadow you could mistake the night guards for the faceless henchmen of a thousand movies, but up close they lose their intimidating persona. The older of the two smiles at me softly, his green eyes sparkling from below a neat cap. The other man, younger and clean shaven throws me a contemptuous look.

"Little late for a run isn't it?" he asks, looping his thumbs into his shiny belt.

"I couldn't sleep," I reply holding up my bandaged stump as way of explanation. "Running takes my mind off things."

This time it's the older man that responds. "You don't have any serious medical conditions do you?"

_Well I'm missing a hand, I suppose it's subjective how serious that is. _

"No," I reply politely, shaking my head.

"Alright then, but stick to the lit paths mind and don't stay out too long." There's a gentleness to his voice, as if he were speaking to a grandchild rather than an errant student. I suppose Yamaku can afford to be very selective with their staff choices, valuing compassion and understanding above all else. _They must have gotten the grumpy looking younger guy at a discount. _

"I won't, don't worry," I say, bowing low before turning on heel and jogging out onto the sporadically lit pathway. _I can't believe that worked! _Then again if Kenji with his lack of sight can somehow sneak out after hours the rules can hardly have been that strictly enforced to start with.

Taking a shortcut across a patch of perfectly manicured lawn I head towards the school entrance, thankfully well out of the sight of the night guards. I half expect to find the wrought iron gates locked and barred, but they are open as always. Though the darkness makes them seem even more imposing than the first day I arrived.

Both my pace and heartbeat slow once I reach the smooth black tarmac of the hill. Street lighting is non-existent on this rural stretch of road, and I have only the moon lit crash barrier to guide me. _What if I make it to the store and its closed? Or the person behind the counter calls the police. _How trustworthy is Kenji really?

Despite my increasingly panicked thoughts I continue on, one foot in front of the other. _I'm turning into my mother. _No, I'm not like her, it's not like I want drink to take me out for an entire day, I just want to escape my dreams. _That's fair isn't it? _That's reasonable, no one could argue that I don't deserve even a small break from the torment of my mind.

_I could ask Dr. Ueda for sleeping pills. _But then I would have to explain I was still having nightmares, which would only lead to more questions and under that circumstance I'm not convinced I could keep up the lie. _If I'm going to confess it's going to be by my own hand, not being caught out by my own stupidity. _

A cruel unseasonably cold wind whips at my back, causing me to wrap my arms tightly around my chest. _Damn it. _My spirits are lifted however when I catch sight of a cool blue glow in the distance, the convenience store is at least illuminated at this time of night, a good sign that it's open.

I pick up the pace, led by a hunger that burns deep inside me._ Everything will be alright. _I just need to do this and it will all be over, the dreams can go away, and I can focus all my attention on Hisao and my family. _This is for the best. _

— — —

I'm still have a nagging doubt that the store is open, until I draw close enough to activate the automatic doors, which slide open with a startling hiss. _This is my last chance to turn back. _I pause for a moment on the threshold, but an image of Tatsuo's cold dead face, Ayumu's piercing white eyes and the rage on my boyfriends face make my decision for me. _I need this. _

The boy behind the counter does not even look up as I take a nervous step inside, his acne-ridden face buried in a gaming magazine. Surreptitiously I drift to the back of the store, all the while trying to calm the constant battle raging inside my head. Before I know it I'm standing in front of rows of bottles, neatly organised from wines and beers, to Whisky and other hard spirits.

_Hmmm, shochu was always a favourite whenever I stole a drink at home. _

I grab a familiar brand, high alcohol content, low price and taste. _This feels freakishly natural. _That fact alone scares me. I think I emphasize with my mother more now than any other time in my life. _Everyone has a tipping point. _I tell myself. _This is mine. _

The glass bottle feels cold and heavy in my hand as I walk to the checkout, I imagine this is how a gun would feel. With a clink I place the bottle on the counter, the sound finally seeming to grab the shopkeeper's attention. _I suppose there's a reason he has the night shift. _

"Have any ID for this?" He asks, scanning the bottle with a loud beep.

"Umm, no, I was kinda hoping you could help me out?" I say softly, scanning the walls and ceiling for security cameras - which luckily don't appear to be present.

"Hmmm, you're from the school right? Same as spectacles?" he eyes me up and down, apparently in search of some disability.

"Yeah, we're friends." I hold up my stump, letting the sleeve fall away from the bandage.

His eyes widen, and he admits a soft whistle, I half expect him to make some sarcastic comment but he simply continues to speak, "Didn't know he had friends, especially any that were girls. Who knew?" He shrugs.

"So," I say softly, tucking my stump back out of sight, "Can you help me?"

He seems to consider carefully for a long time, looking at me intently before finally reeling off a price.

"What? That's like three times what it says on the shelf!" I exclaim, I know it would be costly, but I had no idea he would charge that much.

"Oh I'm sorry, feel free to find another store open at quarter to one in the morning, willing to sell an underage girl alcohol." He smirks, leaning back in his seat and reaching for the magazine.

"Fine, fine."

Digging through my purse I pull out the required notes. _At the very least the price will stop this becoming a regular occurrence - I hope. _With a disgusted feeling I hand over the money, of which I notice only about a third makes it into the till. _My grandfather would kill me if he found out what his money was being spent on. _

"You get caught with that, you don't know me, and if anyone asks me, you stole it, clear?"

"Perfectly," I almost hiss. _I don't like this boy. He's the kind air headed crook I used to hang out with. _

Without another word I snatch the bottle, stowing it unceremoniously in the tube like pocket of my hoodie before leaving the store as quickly as I can. It's getting late, this little expedition has taken longer than I thought and I can't let my friends down in the morning, not after everything they do for me. _What's the point of making my nights easier if I can't enjoy my days? _

— — —

Getting back into the dormitories was easier than I had expected, I saw nothing of the guards on my way back through the deserted school grounds. Now I stand in front of the bathroom mirror, staring at my reflection. Bottle in hand and heavy purple bags under my eyes, I look like my mother at her worst.

_I should never have done this. _

Unstopping the Shochu I angle the bottle over the sink, ready to pour the foul liquid out of my life. It would only require only a fraction more effort on my part, and I would upturn the bottle, but I can't. It's the same reason I can't confess, I'm not strong enough.

"Fuck sake," I whisper, returning the cork to the bottle.

I always thought I was better than this. Any crisis I faced could be overcome, but my normal method of anger and hasty decision works for sudden and immediate problems. I'm good at sprinting, but the dreams are a constant reminder of a problem I can neither outrun or even hope to outpace, it's a sustained assault against my very being. _And I'm buckling under the pressure. _

Flicking off the bathroom lights I head back to my room, suddenly feeling very weak. I hide the bottle in the corner of my wardrobe, covering it with clothes I never wear and towels I never use. In silent darkness I strip, and lacking the inclination to put on my pyjamas, I collapse onto bed.

_The alcohol isn't an admission I've lost. _I justify to my sleepy head, it's just a practical way to deal with life when things get too much. _And who could really blame me for wanting that? _

_I really hope tomorrow is a better day… _

— — —

The next morning I feel like I've hardly slept at all, despite a mercifully dreamless sleep. Regret taints my every pore as I step into the hot shower, hoping beyond hope that it might breathe some kind of fresh life into me. _I can't let Hisao or Ikuno see how much of a mess I am._

Closing my eyes I turn my face into the stream cursing silently myself. _I don't know what the hell possessed me to do what I did last night. _All I know is that it was stupid thing to do.

Massaging shampoo into my scalp I try and work through my own justifications, but it's a minefield, my logical reasoning battles with my subconscious desire.

_Hisao, just focus on Hisao. _

I've made it this far without losing my mind, I can hold out a little longer. _I have too. _

— — —

A few days later my worries seem a distant memory as I peer out of the train window. Side by side with my boyfriend we tear through rural Japan's tranquil countryside, having left the city far behind.

I glanced at our destination as we transferred trains, but not really knowing the area around Yamaku it wasn't much help. _Anyway Hisao seems to know where we are going. _

Smoothing my new shirt down I begin to feel like a child again, excited to spend a holiday with my parents in some far off destination, but impatient to get there and start enjoying myself. _My distraction is, as it turns out, a master of his craft. _

"We're nearly there," Hisao says.

Nodding slowly I turn my attention back to the window. Something grabs my attention, a slither of dark blue on the horizon. _Is that the ocean? _

"The sea?" I ask curiously, unable to drag my eyes away from the spectacle.

A sly smile spreads across Hisao's face, causing my favourite dimples to appear.

"Are you okay with that?" he says, a touch of trepidation on his soft voice.

"Absolutely," I grin, pulling his hand into mine.

I've not been to the beach for years, it's a place reserved for the happier parts of my childhood. _Now I get to return thanks to the brilliant boy beside me. _

I hate surprises. _But I think I might be okay with this one._


	30. …And the Speechless Poet

"So," I say slowly, eyes fixed on the distant glint of the ocean that seems to grow closer with each passing moment. "Are we going to the beach?"

_I didn't bring any swimming clothes. Should I have? Do I even want him to see me in a bikini? This is why people shouldn't surprise me._

"Not quite," my boyfriend grins.

"It's been years since I've seen the sea," I muse, "I've forgotten what it looks like."

"You visited the beach a lot when you were younger?" Hisao asks, pulling the sleeves of his cool back sweater up his arms.

"Yeah, my gran and grandad had a summer house. We used to spend a lot of time there when I was little."

I had almost forgotten the warm wooden structure sitting on stilts a few hundred meters from the sea front, nestled amongst the rolling sand dunes. That was before dad left and everything fell apart, now it's just a faded sense of nostalgia, like a crumpled photograph.

"They don't live there anymore?" he asks politely.

"No, my grandmother died when I was younger, and after that my grandad focused all of his efforts into his job, I think it helped distract him."

_He also needed to work twice as hard to support me and mum, but Hisao doesn't need to know that part - yet._

"I'm sorry." Hisao says, squeezing my hand gently.

I shrug, returning the simple gesture with my own hand. "I don't remember her much really."

"How about you?" I ask.

"I don't see my grandparents unless there's a celebration or a disaster." He pauses, smiling at a joke only he gets. "My parents used to like to travel outside of Japan. But I always thought that there were things here worth seeing." He replies reflectively.

"I've never been out of the country," I admit. "Flying kind of scares me."

"It's not so bad, though it messes with your ears," he frowns, "I don't even know if I'm allowed to fly anymore, what with.." He gestures to his chest.

"I'm sure you can," I say consolingly, "Otherwise we can use a boat."

"We?" he asks with a sly smile.

I can feel myself blush, "Well, I like spending time with you."

"Me too," with a smooth motion he strokes the back of my hand, sending shivers running down my spine. _He is at least now becoming more confident about physical contact, even if it is only handholding. _

"Hows your father doing?"

"Oh," I mumble, taken aback by the sudden change of subject. "Better, he's looking forward to meeting you." I hesitate, "If you still want to visit us that is."

"I do, though I'm a bit nervous of meeting my girlfriend's parents." he admits quietly.

"It's fine, I think most of the katana's are in storage anyway."

His eyes grow wide before I lose it and burst out laughing.

"It will be fine, my parents respect my choices, should I be worried about yours?" I ask.

"Dad, no. Mum on the other hand…" He raises his eyebrow at my cryptically, though no hint of a smile crosses his lips_. Either he's very good at acting, or I have something to worry about. _

"Well, I will just have to be extra charming." _And not let on that I'm technically a criminal. _

We continue to chat back and forth about our families, though the conversation feels stilled and oddly controlled. I have the sense that his parents - who both work full time - were once much closer to him, but for the last few years he has felt isolated. _He never says anything like that aloud though. _For my part I manage to avoid telling him much about my own home life before Yamaku, a tinge of guilt pulling at my gut.

While we are talking the yellowing countryside blends into the pale concrete buildings of a picture postcard version of Japanese coastal life. The roofs, now faded with age form a patchwork of colour sloping down gradually to the seafront. Which I'm slightly disappointed to see is behind a large concrete sea wall, rather than the beach I had been hoping for.

Only a few moments later we are pulling into the station. It's aged wooden awnings held aloft on delicately crafted pillars, a relic of an age when things were made with love, rather than the cold plain modernisation found in Ikuno's fancy stores.

I almost forget I am here on a date in my haste to depart the train. All around me men and women dressed in work wear rub their hands together as they step into the cool morning air. _It's hard to imagine what coming here every day for work must be like - does the magic wear off after awhile? _

Hisao follows the last of workers off of the train, keeping his normal distance from the crowd. I feel my cheeks warm as he approaches. _Probably not best etiquette to abandon your partner on the first date. _

"Sorry," I say quickly, inhaling the scent of salt water carried in on the fresh breeze from the sea. I close my eyes as the smell mixed with the calling gulls overhead reawaken memories I didn't know I still possessed.

"I take it you like it here?" Hisao asks.

The adorable dimples on his smiling face greet me as I open my eyes.

"I love it, are we going to look around?"

"We can later, but first we have an appointment on the seafront.

— — —

It's exceptionally hard to stop myself drifting off to any one of the interesting looking stores tucked into aged buildings as we make our way down the gently sloping hill to the sea. _And to think I was worried about not enjoying this surprise. _

Beside me Hisao radiates the calm happiness I've come to expect from him, his mood a more subtle reflection of my own. _It's hard to imagine him processing the anger that frightened me so much in my dreams. _

Soon the cobble street levels out and all that separates us from the stone wall holding back the sea is a quiet tarmac road. Above I had not noticed how many boats sheltered in the horseshoe harbour. Most of the vessels are small fishing or pleasure craft, each with a colourfully painted roof, I have fun imagining each belonging to a home with a matching roof somewhere up the hill.

Crossing the road Hisao leads me to the right. The sea slaps against the concrete wall beside us, I can almost feel its mist on my cheek. Inhaling deeply I catch the scent of the sea, salt mixed with fresh air which ignites my memories of darting in and out of the waves, seemingly an age ago.

I'm so distracted by my thoughts I nearly fall over when Hisao stops before a large sign, slightly faded and tied to the handrail that encompasses the seawall.

"Sightseeing cruises?" I ask, peering past the sign to a gangplank leading up to a large white ship, sitting low in the water like some alien spacecraft accidentally landed in this rustic seaside town.

"Err, yeah." Hisao says tentatively. _So this was his and Ikuno's plan. _

"That's awesome, I've never been on a boat before."

He laughs half with relief and half with amusement.

"Me neither to tell you the truth, but it's supposed to be really good."

It's funny, being here makes me feel like a child again, and I seem to be able to let my guard down around Hisao. _An effect very few people have ever had on me._ I have no idea what he thinks of me, or even if he's questioning his decision to bring me on a date. _I'm not going to pretend to be something I'm not, I don't have the willpower or the energy for it - I just have to hope he likes every side of me. _

"Shall we?" he asks, gesturing to the gangplank.

"Sure, how much is it?" I ask, reemerging in the handbag Ikuno lent me for my purse.

"Already taken care of," he grins, withdrawing from his wallet two gold embossed tickets.

"Heh, you really did have this all planned out didn't you?"

"Well." Moving to my right side he once again takes my hand, "I admit Ikuno helped with the arrangements."

"I have good friends," I muse, more to myself than anyone else.

A portly steward meets us as we climb the steep ramp onto the deck, his face cracking into a heartening smile.

"Welcome aboard the Musashi," he says happily, "Do sir and Madam have their tickets or will you be in need of my services behind the till." With a grin he gestures to an archaic ticket machine slung around his neck.

Hisao hands over the tickets with a bow.

"Excellent! The best views are to be had from the port side of the bow, if you have any questions feel free to ask. Always happy to help!"

_He sounds like he means it, I wonder if I will ever find a job which I enjoy as much as this guy does his. _

"Port side?" I whisper to Hisao as we turn away from the steward.

"Oh, over here," He replies leading me to a railing on the left side of the ship, almost at the front of the boat.

"Is there anything you don't know?"

"I read a lot while I was in hospital." He shrugs.

_Boats are strange. _The entire structure rocks slowly back and forth under my feet, and I silently pray I'm not seasick. I don't get carsick, but I've never had the chance to see how I do on boats before now. _Had I known beforehand I could have set up a raft or something in the school pool, just to be safe. _

"This feels strange," I mumble, snuggling closer to Hisao who is leaning against the railing, peering into the rippling water below.

"You don't get seasick do you?" He asks, mirroring my own concern.

"I don't think so," I say, deciding to move the conversation away from throwing up. "Were you in the hospital for long?"

"Yeah." He doesn't expand on his single word answer.

"It sucks, doesn't it?"

"You've spent time in hospital as well?" He asks, before his eyes find my stump and guilt crumples his handsome face. "Sorry, I thought."

"It's okay," I say quickly, "I was in for about three weeks when this happened."

_It's amazing the void between how well I feel like I know him, and how well I actually do. _

"I'm sorry, what…" he shakes his head quickly, as if trying to quickly erase the words he almost said.

"I was involved in a car crash." I can hear my own voice as I speak, feel my lips form the words. But can't believe I just said them. _I suppose he was going to find out sooner or later, even if it isn't the entire truth. _

Hisao seems momentarily speechless. Glancing around quickly I notice the boat has started to fill up, mostly with older people and foreign tourists. _I guess we only just beat the rush. _

"I had a heart attack," Hisao announces suddenly, causing me to turn back to him so fast I almost topple over.

"What?"

"Before I came to Yamaku, it's how I found out about my heart condition." he says calmly.

_I guess we both had pretty brutal introductions to our disabilities. _

I can't think of anything to say, no comfort to give. _Even if Hisao wants comforting, which I doubt. _I simply wrap my arm around his waist, leaning my head against his shoulder. After a few moments hesitation he does the same and together we lean against the white railing. _Waiting for our journey to begin. _

— — —

An ethereal mist rolls over us as the ship slips through the waves undaunted. I don't know how far we've traveled, but I doubt we would be able to see the town from here, even without the visibility being so limited.

_I wish I had spent more time reading the sign. There were pictures but I hardly registered them in the excitement._

Slowly dark shapes start to form on the edge of the mist, no more than outlines in the grey haze. Intrigued I squint trying to make out the abstract forms on the waterline.

"So do you know who Matsuo Bashō is?" Hisao asks.

"I have no idea," I say distractedly as we draw ever nearer to the ghostly shapes.

"He was a poet who wrote about this place."

"Yeah?" I whisper, "What did he write about it?"

Before Hisao can answer the mist clears like a veil being pulled from across my eyes.

"Wow.." My exclamation is echoed between the passengers, followed by a rustle of clothes as everyone shifts to get a better view. _Lucky for us the steward was right, we are in the best spot. _

"That was pretty much what he wrote, too: wow," Hisao adds, equally awed.

Before us sprouting from the waves like the twisted remains of some ancient sea monster lies a pale grey outcrop of rock. Rising only a few meters from the frothing surf the island gives off a supreme sense of timeless beauty, with hardy trees clinging onto its surface like survivors from a ship wreck, their weatherbeaten tips lost to the receding mist.

On one end of the island the rock curves into a natural arch that dives back into the clean white froth. Inhaling sharply I peer past the island, only to find another and another, disappearing into the infinite mists.

"It's amazing," I whisper, drawing if possible closer to Hisao. _The warmth of his body and the sight before me causing a shiver to run up my spine. _

"I was worried the mist would limit our view, but if anything it enhances it." Hisao says, his eyes fixed on the site before us.

_He's right. _Only the islands closest to us are visible. All the others are blurred, like an out of focus camera, hidden just out of reach.

"Do you ever feel like your life has changed, but not in a way you could have ever predicted?" I ask quietly, mesmerised by the view. _It's like nothing I've ever seen before, magic in a way I can't just describe._

"Yes, all the time. I thought my life was over and then..." He pauses. "And then I came to Yamaku, and I met you."

_Apparently I'm not the only one for whom these islands seem to have an enchanting effect. _

Slowly, with a care I might exercise if someone had handed me a priceless family heirloom I press my lips to his unsuspecting cheek. _It's as soft and warm as it is was my dreams. _His body stiffens, and to my horror he raises a hand to his chest, rubbing his sternum methodically.

"Oh shit, are you okay? I'm so sorry!" I say, panic causing my words to chase each other as they tumble from my mouth.

"I'm fine," he says apologetically, still rubbing his chest, "You just took me by surprise."

"But your chest, I mean, your heart."

"Huh?" Hisao looks suddenly confused before his eyes follow mine to the hand rubbing his chest, which halts instantly.

"It's just a nervous habit, I'm fine really," he pauses, "I've really messed this first kiss stuff up haven't I?"

"Well a kiss on the cheek isn't really a proper first kiss."

"No?"

"No," I grin half in relief and half in amusement.

"Huh, well could I get a heads up when the proper first kiss is about to happen? You know, just in case?" he mumbles dreamily, his eyes fixed on a spiral of rock erupting from the sea, its peak rounded and flattened like an angular mushroom.

"Oh, believe me you will definitely know when that's about to happen."

— — —

Like all good and wonderful things our cruise comes to it's inevitable end.

Seagulls scream overhead as the ship approaches the sunbaked dock we departed from. Hisao and I are the last to step off the gangplank, following a family of tourists in the most garish shirts I've ever seen. _To each his own I suppose. _

We spare the time to thank the steward, who in turn thanks us repeatedly for our patronage. _I'm fairly sure the endless back and forth of thanks would have lasted all day, had the ship not needed preparing for the next batch of eager tourists. _

"Thank you," I say shyly once Hisao and I have wandered away from the mulling tourists. "I really enjoyed that."

"Me to," he says with a bright smile. _I would like to imagine his cheeks were still red from the kiss. _

"Would you like to get some lunch? I thought afterwards we could explore the seafront."

"Sure," I reply, my stomach giving an involuntary but non the less coincidental rumble.

"I have reservations for us this evening, if that's okay?"

"Wow," I grin, "You really have got this all planned out."

Rubbing his neck he grins sheepishly. "Well, I wanted this to be special."

Taking his hand into mine I flash him a crooked smile. "Mission accomplished. Come on, let's go see what those charts are selling."

Together we set off at a leisurely pace, keeping close to the seawall and enjoying the occasional light misting from a particularly energetic wave. It might be my imagination, but I'm sure that I can smell Taiyaki on the air, an image of watching the sunset while nibbling on one of the fish shaped treats flourishes in my mind. _It's nice to be remembering pleasant things for a change. _

"You know, I think I want to live by the sea when I get older." I say conversationally.

"Yeah?"

I nod, "It would be nice I think, I could run on the beach and then cool off in the ocean."

_It's a stupid, but definitely appealing dream. _

"Do you know what university you plan to attend after high school?"

"No, not really thought that far ahead." I say as we draw ever closer to the delicious smell.

"But you've thought about where you want to live?" He asks, laughing softly.

"Yes, well a dream is different to a plan," I frown, "How about you?"

"Something to do with science, I haven't quite narrowed down which particular field yet."

"You're not going to spend all your time putting cats into boxes are you?" I ask in mock concern.

Shaking his head Hisao begins to laugh, his chestnut eyes sparkling and his face alive. Admiring the view for a few moments longer I let my own laughter take me, as together we stride towards a collection of street vendors and the promise of a gloriously unhealthy lunch.

— — —

_Oh no, another restaurant I'm not nearly dressed up enough for - then again I think that applies to almost every location beside fast food shacks. _My mouth falls open slightly as we step inside, the walls are painted a soft mix of pale cream and blue, while the tables and chairs seem to be made from reclaimed driftwood - possibly tidal stowaways from the islands we visited this morning.

"I hope you like sea food," My date asks nervously as an ornate waitress leads us across the nearly empty dining room. Wrapped in layers of smooth silk typical for - or at least what I imagine to be typical for - high end dining, she gives off a supreme sense of delicacy, like a china doll, breakable at the slightest touch.

_I know of a few girls at Yamaku like that, though I doubt it's for the same reason. _

Much like the waiter in the Italian restaurant Ayumu took me too, our waitress makes every effort to go unnoticed. _Truth be told it makes me a little nervous. _Placing my new straw hat - an item I simply had to have when I discovered it hidden in a microscopic seaside shop - on the empty chair beside me I wait awkwardly, as the menus are laid on the table.

Ordering an ice lemon soft drink I begin to scan the menu, which to my intense relief is in Japanese. It's easy to find something I like. I've always been partial to fish and seafood, though my skills at preparing and cooking it leave something to be desired.

"It all looks so good," I comment, not untruthfully.

"Yeah, I've never tried many of these dishes," he lowers his menu long enough to smirk at me. "My mum has a phobia of fish."

I choke a little on my laughter, "Excuse me?"

"Well, I don't know why, but they have always freaked her out a bit, so as you can imagine she didn't prepare seafood much."

"Well I think I'm going to try this," I say, pointing to my section on the menu.

"I think I will as well," he says confidently, folding the menu in front of him.

I copy him quickly, feeling suddenly anxious. _In my head I can see all the ways I might screw this up, knock over a drink, spill my food, insult my boyfriend. _It's ridiculous I've eaten hundreds of times before without incident - why should this time be different?

"Something on your mind?" My boyfriend asks.

"Nothing important," I smile, though it feels forced. "So what was your school like before you came to Yamaku?"

_Keeping him talking seems like a good way to distract myself from my stupid thoughts. _

"I suppose it was a fairly typical school, nothing like Yamaku."

My reply is cut off by the waitress returning with our drinks, I notice her eyes hover on my stump and I quickly tuck it out of sight under the table. Looking guilty she takes our orders, before collecting the menus and leaving with a bow.

"It must be horrible, people looking all the time," Hisao comments apologetically.

"Huh?" His words take me off guard, "Oh, I guess - It used to bother me more than it does now, but what can you do?" I shrug.

He simply nods, frowning slightly. _We don't often open up about our disabilities or conditions or however we are supposed to label them. _I know next to nothing about why he came into my life, other than he had a heart attack caused by a condition he's had all his life.

"Anyway," I say, trying to lighten the mood. "You were talking about school?"

"Err, yeah - well there is not much more to say really, I had a few friends who I used to hang around with, play soccer, go to the arcade that kinda thing."

I laugh softly, "I bet you looked cute in a soccer outfit, do you keep in contact with your friends?"

His cheeks redden slightly, but his eyes drift to the gnarled wooden tabletop, "No, we drifted apart after I went to hospital, and I've not heard from them since."

"It feels like you were hanging around with them, rather than them hanging out with you huh?" I ask gently.

"That's one way of putting it."

"It was the same for me before I came to Yamaku, spent a lot of time with people who I thought were my friends, but not a single one visited me in the hospital." There's a touch of unintended venom to my words.

"Well, here's to new friends huh?" Hisao smiles, raising his glass of soda.

Our drinks meet with a resenting clink.

After our toast the conversation waves and turns, as the topic shifts from home and nostalgia to half concocted dreams for the future. _In many ways it's like talking to Ayumu. _But more open and honest, with the meaning of words not hidden behind some elaborate vocabulary.

Soon enough our food arrives, and our attention is taken with the task of eating the soft fish dish. _The perfectly cooked fish that flakes on contact with the chopsticks is an unplanned treat for me, food always tastes better when you don't have to fight it. _

As I eat I let my mind wander. I really would enjoy living in a place like this, out of the way but still connected, all at once it seems like a brilliant and terrible dream. I'm imagining things I have no right to - a cell is where my future lies, and my repeated thoughts otherwise are an act of weakness.

"Good?"

"Huh?" Once again my boyfriend has caught me lost in my own thoughts.

"Sorry, the food do you like it?" He asks gently, a hint of concern in his perfect eyes.

"It's delicious," I say quickly, "Sorry I get caught up in my own head sometimes."

"Anything you want to share?"

_Yes, all of it, I want all this responsibility and guilt to be someone else's problem to handle. _

"Nah, it's not important."

_He doesn't look convinced. _

— — —

We step out into the setting sun hand in hand. _That was one of the best meals I've ever had. _And it's all down to the smiling boy beside me, who is looking - rightly so - very proud of himself.

"I suppose we should be heading back." he says, his eyes flickering up the hill in the direction of the train station.

"Not yet," I reply, "I want a last look at the sea."

The promenade is deserted, even though the sun is only just setting. It's desperation to hold onto the day staining the sky in beautiful indigos and amber, with thin clouds that seem to go on forever.

Below the turbulent sky the sea is calm, gently reflecting the perfect colours above, it's gentle splash the only sound in the still night. _Imagine running under this every night. _

"It's beautiful," Hisao says softly.

"Um-hmm," I agree, turning to face him.

"Hisao?"

"Yes?"

Our eyes meet, and I can feel my heart flutter in my chest, my teeth meet my bottom lip as I work myself up for what I'm dying to ask.

"I want to kiss you," I whisper, taking a step forward so we are closer than we have ever been.

"O… okay," his voice shakes softly and he turns his red cheek slightly.

_Silly boy. _

With a restrained movement I drop his hand, moving my fingers to his cheek, before guiding his lips to mine. He stiffens for a moment, and I worry he's had another heart attack, but a second later his arms are wrapping around me, and he's kissing back.

Time seems to stop, as together we share our first kiss, under the perfect sunset. _How will I ever be able to give this up? _


	31. Meet the Nakais

_First off, my apologies the pace of chapters being posted has slowed a bit. I like to keep about a three chapter plus buffer zone between what I have written and what I have posted, unfortunately I've also had to rewrite a few chapters recently. _

_But on a more positive note: Thank you all so much for your reviews, I read them all and your kind words inspire me to keep writing. =D_

_Cheers Gajz. _

— — —

The bright morning sun rests comfortably on my back, while a light breeze - channeled down the wide river that runs through the heart of my city, like an exposed artery - ruffles my hair.

I stop halfway across the wrought iron bridge, laden with my heavy luggage. I'm pleased to see the hulking black structure again. It was always a welcome sight, each time I crossed it on the way home from middle school.

_It's also a great place to watch the sunrise after a long run._

Leaning my bag against the metal handrail I turn to Hisao, who wipes his sweaty brow with the back of his hand.

"Are you okay?" I frown.

"Yeah, no need to worry." My boyfriend replies, not altogether convincingly.

_Perhaps I should have arranged for a taxi? _Hisao and I have spent the last week at my parents' small apartment, enjoying our first summer vacation together. _And hopefully not the last._ I lean against the beam that acts as both handrail and support for the bridge relishing the sunbaked warmth of the aged metal. _Things change slowly if at all here, a city set in its ways nestled in a world ready to rush ahead. _

"Something on your mind?" Hisao asks curiously, bending over the railing beside me and staring straight down into the murky green water below. _Apparently you can fish in these waters, though quite frankly whatever lives down below should stay there._

"Just wondering how mum and dad are getting on."

Thankfully I returned to our old apartment to find it as timeless as the rest of the city, the same faded wallpaper from my childhood still flaking from the walls, the furniture bearing every kind of stain, from my messy eating as a child to booze spilt in my mother's drunken haze. _An abstract tapestry of our lives. _In fact the only new additions to the house came in the form of sharply angled medical equipment, blindingly white in the smoke stained room.

Dad seemed almost embarrassed by them when I formally introduced Hisao. Despite assurances that as students of a school for the disabled we were well used to seeing medical gizmos, our words fell on deaf ears and by the next morning every piece of apparatus was safely stowed out of sight.

"It's just a routine check up right?" He asks, dragging himself away from the lazy water far below and turning to me.

"Yeah, and physical therapy," I say distractedly, only half watching the small birds that flutter between the buildings.

_I know everything will be fine. _But I can't help but worry, if Hisao's parents had not been expecting us I would have stayed on an extra day, just to be sure he was safe at home before I left. Unfortunately that desire is neither rational nor likely to go down well with my potential in-laws.

"Are you ready to move again, it's not much further." I lie, turning my attention to Hisao.

With my mum and dad using Miss Kita's car - not to mention her chauffeuring skills - I opted to walk the not inconsiderable distance to the train station. Without even a thought to how this may affect my boyfriend, or more importantly his fragile heart. _I should ring for a taxi, hell, even a cramped bus might have been better. _

"Miki, I'm fine, honestly." He rolls his eyes, a light smile on his face. "I will tell you if I have problems, promise."

"Hmmm," I mumble, feeling my cheeks redden. _Have I been that obvious? _

"I'm sorry," I say, placing a soft kiss on his hot cheek by way of an apology. "Just worried."

"Don't be," he frowns, rubbing his cheek.

_Easier said than done. _

"It's nice here," he says softly, picking up his bag. _Oh dear, apparently my distraction is trying to distract me - is he allowed to do that? _

"It's not so bad," I reply, suddenly feeling a fresh wave of nervous energy course through me. Hisao has said next to nothing about his parents, or even his home. _Or at least anything of interest after he started middle school and they started a campaign of corporate ladder climbing at the expense of their son. _

I'm probably being unfair in that assessment of them, or at least taking an unfairly critical view of things. No matter how much you might want people to be, no one is perfect and life is rarely simple. _Still, I can't imagine choosing money over my child. _Perhaps because I've never had to.

Cresting a hill I had almost forgotten existed I see a concrete blot on the landscape, stained by both sun and rain the buildings stand awkwardly amongst the suborn architecture. _My old middle school. _The sight chases the thought of Hisao's parents from my mind, as I stare open mouthed.

"What's up?" Hisao asks, following my gaze, his forehead creasing slightly.

"Oh," I say, "That's my old middle school."

"Ah," he observes me for a few moments, before speaking with a puzzled expression. "Good memories or…?"

_I'm not sure I know. _My memories of middle school are mixed. It was a time of great upheaval, dad had just gone to prison - not that I knew that at the time - and the warm glow of my beachside childhood was eroded away as everything from my body to the people I loved changed. In retrospect I think the experience made me, if not a better person, then certainly a tougher one.

"A bit of both," I reply, knowing full well what a useless answer that is. "I liked it much more than my first year of high school."

He laughs softly, "That's funny, I enjoyed my time at high school more than middle school - I preferred the more mature atmosphere."

"And then you met Ryouta," I grin as we pull alongside the school fence, separating the empty playground from the path. With a smile I notice the wooden planters underneath the classroom windows are still overflowing with vibrant life. I was a member of the gardening club and helped to look after the colourful displays around the school. That is until running became such an important part of my life. _Still, I'll have to make sure my seaside cottage has a garden. _

"You laugh now," Hisao says in mock seriousness. "But when he becomes a famous name in Hollywood…"

I snort with laughter, glancing over my shoulder for one last look at the school - _funny, it always seemed bigger in my memories. _Then I focus on the train station, squatting between three towering and very ugly buildings.

"Well, if he spoke Japanese then I would have at least one person in those stupid movies I understand."

Our laughter carries us down the hill, the plastic wheels on our suitcases protesting audibly as the path becomes gradually more uneven. _Hmmm, the station isn't nearly as far I thought it was. _No one tells you that when you grow up. You don't just get bigger, your world gets smaller.

— — —

Leaning my head against the cold and grimy train window I watch home vanish into the midday haze. They say distance makes the heart grow fonder. _Or something to that effect. _I think it must be true, I miss our small apartment and the company of my family already. Once, I would have done almost anything to escape that place.

"You'll see them again soon," Hisao says, correctly interpreting my thoughts.

I nod slowly, turning my face away from the endless sky, interrupted only by a few wisps of cloud, which blaze brightly in the midmorning sun. Hisao smiles at me, the light catching in his dimple and glittering in his eyes.

"So, anything I need to know before we get to your parents?" I ask, casually rising from my seat to drop down beside him and leaning my head against his arm. On the seats adjacent to ours a old business suited man lowers his paper just long enough to glower at me, before returning distractedly to his reading. _With effort I restrain from saying something rude. _

Hisao starts to say something, but I cut him off resting my fingertips on his hot cheek and turning his face towards me, before finding his lips with my own. With eyes closed I can hear the rustle of newspaper behind me, but I've suddenly forgotten to care. _Whatever he was going to say, I doubt it was in protest. _

Hisao is the first to pull away, smirking at me with a kind of childish joy in his eyes.

"Hmmm, something you should know," he feigns thinking, "Well, my mother wasn't exactly sold on the idea of you visiting, but don't worry about that."

_What? _

"How not sold are we talking?" I ask alarmed.

"It's nothing, don't worry."

He looks suddenly guilty, looking at the view outside the window with intense interest. 

I begin to question him further, but I'm interrupted by my ringing phone. Diving for my bag I manage to withdraw it on the fourth ring. _Gah, these shorts may show off my legs, but they leave no room for pockets. _Flipping open the worn device I look at the screen.

[Ikuno: Calling…]

"Hey," I answer, blowing Hisao a kiss as I swiftly retreat to the space next to the doors. _Business suit man really would start a riot if I spoke on my phone in the carriage proper. _

"Hi!" She responds happily, "How are things going?"

"Not so badly, on the train to Hisao's parents."

"Ohhhhh, are you nervous?"

_More so now that I know that at least fifty percent of his parental unit 'isn't sold' on me being there. _

"A little - how are the Kurimizus?" I ask, changing the subject.

"Oh they are lovely, everyone is so nice and Ryouta's little sister is just the cutest thing in the world."

"You can't keep her," I warn, only half in jest.

"That's what Ryouta said…" In my mind's eye I can see the agitated look on her face. _I'll have to remember to give Ryouta a high five for that. _

"Anyway you're going to love her."

"I wasn't aware we would be meeting?"

"Oh, yeah, thats right, you don't know." She pauses, and I can hear some shrill giggling on the other end of the phone. "That's why I was phoning really, mum and dad have invited Ryouta's family to our beach house near Fukuoka."

_Because of course they have a beach house. _

"Will there be enough room for us all?" I ask, picturing a square wooden stilted affair like the one my grandparents once owned.

"Of course!" I get a hint of amusement in her tone, "If you tell me Hisao's address dad is going to send a car."

"I don't mind using the train," I say. _I already owe the Komaki family a lot. _

"Don't worry about that, just text me the address when you know okay?"

"O… Okay," I reply, unsure if I should continue to fight this or not. I know her family has a lot of money, but that doesn't mean I should take advantage of them.

There's a thud followed by a loud wail on the other end of the phone. "Oh shoot - I need to go," Ikuno says quickly, "I'll see you on the weekend! Text me later okay?"

"I will," I manage to say, before the line goes dead. I find myself shaking my head as I snap my phone shut. At least she's having fun, I'm not sure I will be having as much at Hisao's.

My boyfriend has his head in a book when I get back to my seat. He's so engrossed that he does not seem to notice my return. Deciding I don't want to disturb him I rest my head once again against the cool glass, before me lies a sea of swaying grass as far as the eye can see. _If I manage to survive the next few days I'm going to come back and visit this place, see something beautiful without a train window in the way for once. _

— — —

_Just breathe, just breathe… don't do anything stupid. _

I rapidly run through my mental checklist as Hisao flags down a shiny silver car outside the busy station. The car, a german business solon, pulls up to the curb beside us. _Right, clothes on, stump mostly hidden, hair fine, I can do this. _Sliding to a stop beside us the car glows softly in the early afternoon light. It's smooth angled bodywork fits in well with the towering skyscrapers around us. _Despite carrying the title of 'City' this place is nothing like home, it's bigger and more crowded, like an out of control ant nest. _

"Hi," Hisao says nervously as a small woman climbs from the passenger seat of the car, a wide smile plastering her delicate face. _I guess I now know where Hisao got his rather unique eye colour. _

"Hey you," his mother says, embracing her son fiercely. Her hair shines a rich black, and I would bet it's been dyed recently. _I'm not sure what I was expecting, someone less obviously loving from Hisao's description. _In fact the small woman carries herself well, dressed in a neat skirt and blouse, age either not affecting her, or battled artificially.

_Hope I look that good at her age. _

Wincing I watch as he raises a hand to protect his chest, not that his enthusiastic parent seems to notice. A door slams beside me, and I find myself meeting the eyes of a tall well built man. _Hisao's father. _Much like my grandfather he is tall and muscular, but his face is kind, and his greying hairline betrays either his age, or a whole lot of worry. We share a nod across the top of the car, as I step back, feeling like I'm intruding on something deeply private.

"Mum," Hisao says, finally escaping and holding her at arm's length. "This is Miki Miura, she's a friend from school."

_I guess we're not quite at the stage where I'm introduced as the girlfriend. _

Which might be just as well, because the look his mother gives me is pure venom. _Great, I mean I was anticipating this, but that does not make it any better. _I bow as politely as I can muster, feeling incurably vulnerable as I expose the back of my neck to her. _This is just super, Hisao could have least given me more of a heads up that I was hated. _

"A pleasure Miss Miura," His father says when it becomes apparent no one else is going to speak. "I'm Haru Nakai, Hisao's father."

He strolls confidently around the front of the his car, and we share a low bow. _At least he seems to like me. _Or at least, hasn't made it completely obvious he dislikes me.

"Noa," his mother says coldly, as way of an introduction.

"Thank you for allowing me to stay with you Mister and Misses Nakai."

With our brief pleasantries out of the way, attention is shifted back to Hisao, who seems happy enough - if a little overwhelmed by all the attention. I feel like a voyeur as I climb into the plush back seat of the car, an observer to a normal, happy family, reunited after a long time apart.

_It's strange, this is a part of life that for most people is completely normal - yet for me it's like seeing alien life for the first time. _

I keep quiet while the family talks reservedly about Yamaku, about the subjects Hisao enjoys and his plans for when school finishes. I wither a little under the look Noa gives me when her son tells her he will be seeing where I am going, before choosing his university. _I don't suppose telling her I will probably be in prison will help. _

After an agonizingly long time we pull into an underground carpark, under a towering block of flats. _And here I was thinking he lived in a house. _I suppose it makes sense, land here is at a premium, and a desire to live close to the centre of everything drives people on top of each other.

His parents do a spirited job of ignoring my stump as they hand over the luggage, and the rumble of plastic wheels echoing on concrete are the only sounds in the awkward silence as we make our way to the lift - I hang back, feeling increasingly uncomfortable.

Once inside the cramped metal box Hisao's father pushes the button for the top floor. My stomach lurches as the lift shoots us towards our destination. _With the nerves and the sudden movement of the lift I feel just about ready to throw up. _Closing my eyes, I try to breathe steadily in and out, hoping to relax before we reach our floor.

The lift doors part smoothly, revealing a carpeted hallway. _I wasn't expecting that. _The space is almost void of natural light, only a solitary window far off at the end of the corridor offers a view of the outside world. Otherwise warm yellow uplighters line the cream walls. _It's kind of like the dorms at Yamaku, only without the smell of mixed perfume, or mixed boy in the case of Ryouta and Hisao's accommodation._

The Nakais' flat is the last door down, close to the window. My mouth drops open as the front door is swung open, and I catch my first glimpse of my home for the next few days. _Wow. _Windows surrounding the living area on two sides, bathing the cool ultramodern creams and metallics in soft white light. Through a pair of french windows a balcony is visible, dotted with plants that have started to climb the metal railings, despite their already elevated position.

"You redecorated?" Hisao comments, slightly taken aback himself.

"Your mother has been at rather a loose end since you've been at school," Mr Nakai comments with a hearty chuckle, drawing a disapproving look from his wife. _Well, at least I'm not the only one. _

This place makes our small neglected apartment feel like a shack. While not a completely unfair assessment, I can't help but feel our house has more soul, it's memories have been bled, sweated and cried into the walls. This place is almost too clean. _Although, I can't deny, the view is impressive. _

"I'll get started on lunch," Haru comments, pulling a white apron over his impressive bulk, a smile still planted firmly on his lips. "Why don't you show Miki where she will be sleeping?" he says with a wink.

Eager to be away from Hisao's mother I follow him obediently, performing a kind of moving bow to my hosts.

The room Hisao leads me to is impressive to say the least, done in the same modernist style as the rest of the apartment the creams have been replaced with soft peach. A pair of silky pink curtains drift lazily in the wind from the open doors behind them. _Oh my goodness! I have my own balcony! _ The sun shining through the material bathes the entire room in radiant pink light. _It might be my imagination, but I could swear I smell rose petals._

"This room is amazing," I say breathlessly.

"Hmmm, I suppose." he rubs the back of his neck nervously, "I think my parents planned on having another child, but, well obviously that never happened so we ended up with a guest room." he finishes lamely, fidgeting where he stands.

"What's wrong?" I ask.

"I'm sorry about my mum…"

"Oh," I say quickly, "Don't worry about it."

I suppose I shouldn't blame him for any of this. After all it was me who - though not intentionally - made him chose between his girlfriend and his mother. I'm just thankful he's here to support me. _And who knows, his mother might warm up to me._

_Fat chance. _

"But, hmm." He goes to say something but stops; thinking better of it. "Would you like to see my room?"

_A cheesy chat up line if ever I heard one. _

Nodding I lay my bag beside the bed and follow Hisao to the next door down the corridor, easy recognisable as my boyfriend's room by the childish letters stuck to the surface, spelling his name. I smile at them, a little relic from his childhood, like the dusty children books stored in my own room.

With a blush he opens the door, revealing a room untouched by the apartment's makeover. Stale air hits us as we step inside, it feels a little like walking into a tomb. _At least Miss Kita had the sense to open a window in my room. _In fact it seems like no one has done anything in this room for a very long time. Clothes lie untouched on the floor, and the bed is unmade; a games console lies underneath a decently sized television, covered in a thin layer of dust.

Hisao apologies, hastening to open a window and kicking clothes into a crumpled pile.

"It's okay." I'm a little taken aback. Why would no one clean this room? _He's not close to his parents, but from this it's almost like they are actively pretending they don't have a son. _"Not one for housekeeping huh?" I ask, trying to sound lighthearted.

"I," he pauses, not looking at me. "I went straight from the hospital to Yamaku, I've not been here in, ages."

_Oh. _

"Did, your heart... Was it..." My eyes drift to his unmade bed. "Did it happen here?"

_I might be pushing my boundaries with that question, but his untouched room has sparked my curiosity. _

"No." His voice is suddenly firm, as he raises a hand to rub at his chest.

"I'm sorry," I reply quickly, feeling immediately guilty. I try to change the subject. "Do you have any good games?"

"Huh?"

Meeting his confused eyes I point to the games console.

"Yeah, but," his gaze flickers to my stump.

"What? Afraid you're going to lose to a girl with one hand?" I say with a raised eyebrow, crossing my arms.

We stare each other down for a few moments, before Hisao breaks, and a wide grin crosses his face. _Excellent, I've always wanted a go on one of these things. _

— — —

Time flies as Hisao and I battle our way through waves of brightly coloured aliens. _It's fun. _Though not exactly designed with lopsided people in mind - still some creative use of my stump and using my knee to press the fire button works well enough. Finally the biggest meanest monster we have thus far encountered falls to a barrage of our well coordinated laser fire.

"Yes!" I yelp excitedly, as our virtual selves are plucked to safety by a spaceship in a dramatic cut scene.

"Nice work!" My boyfriend replies, just as thrilled.

To my great surprise leans over and plants a kiss on my cheek. _Video games? It took video games to give him the courage to kiss me first? _

"Uh hmm," a gruff throat is cleaned behind us, causing Hisao to spring away from me as if were electrically charged. Feeling heat rush to my cheeks I turn, just in time to see a wide grin spread across Mr Nakai's face.

"Lunch is served," he announces with a bow. Still with a very Ryouta-like grin planted on his lips.

_Great, just great - at least it wasn't his mother who caught us. _

I risk another look at the breathtaking view as we sit around a low table. I'm afraid if I look to long I might become mesmerised and do something to embarrass myself. _The Nakais, or more accurately Mrs Nakai seems to have a taste for the traditional, even in her ultra modern apartment. _

_Oh, I hope they don't expect me to pour tea. _It's one of those skills I never learned, or had even the slightest inclination to try. Lucky enough Hisao's mother handles the pouring of the tea with a grace that I would never have been able to match. _And not just because I'm lacking a hand. _

Meanwhile Hisao's father, is delivering plate after plate of steaming food to the table. The mix of smells is intoxicating. I feel like I've not eaten all day, despite a hearty breakfast this morning. _Saving the universe really takes it out of you. _

"This all looks delicious Mr Nakai," I say, trying my level best to sound like the kind of nice young lady this family might want.

"Thank you, but call me Haru. I was afraid your boyfriend might have warned you off my cooking." He chuckles lightly, while his wife glares at me.

_Hey! He said boyfriend… not me. _

"Daaaad," Hisao groans, his cheeks reddening. "He used to make me taste all of his creations when he was teaching himself." He adds as explanation.

"Every artist has an experimental phase. You should be proud to be part of the process."

Kneeling at the head of the table, Haru towers over us, his massive frame dominating the room. But a smile seems never far from his lips, and he seems to have an aura of great kindness about him. _It's like seeing an older version of Ryouta - One that has gone to the gym once in awhile. _

"So are you still playing soccer?" My host asks his son, tucking into his food with reckless abandon.

I take his actions as a cue to pick up my own chopsticks, before adding a little of everything to my plate. I can feel his mother's eyes on me, but I don't dare to look up. _I just want to get through this meal without an argument._

"I'm not allowed," Hisao answers with a tinge of regret. "I run with Miki though," he says almost consolingly.

"Is that safe?" Noa says suddenly, turning her attention back to her son. _She's like that big red eye thing in Ryouta's movie with the cute elf - I forget the name. _

"Of course it is, the nurse even recommended it." I notice there's a note of aggravation in my boyfriend's otherwise polite reply.

"So you are on the track team?" Haru asks, trying to drag the conversation back from the riptide that is Hisao's mother.

"No, I'm not," Hisao takes a bite of his food before speaking again, "Miki is though. She's one of the fastest girls in the school."

_That's _the_ fastest girl in the school thank you very much - Assuming, it's the four hundred meters and I sacrifice every other event… _

I feel my cheeks redden, and busy myself with my chopsticks, not looking at anyone.

"Do you have many _other _friends at school?" The Nakai matriarch asks with sickly sweet venom.

"Some, but I spend most of my time with Miki," Hisao shrugs, "Why?"

"Oh, no reason, just curious."

_Hisao would forgive me if I punched his mother right? _

"Well, I am glad to see my boy finally spending some time with a girl, I was beginning to wonder," Haru says with a hearty chuckle. It's hard to tell if he's joking or not.

"Dad!"

"He did spend a lot of time with a girl before, do you not remember dear?" Noa speaks to her husband, but her hawk-like gaze is fixed on me.

"Mum…" Hisao mutters in a halfhearted warning.

"There was that girl that kept visiting you in the hospital, you two were very close weren't you?" She continues as if her son had made no interruption. "Iwanako wasn't it? She wrote asking for the address of your new school, did she ever get in contact?"

With a considerable amount of effort I force what I hope is a neutral look on my face. _I can't let her have even the smallest victory over me. _This is a type of warfare I hate, the sly passive aggressive remarks, the sneering joy as she under the illusion of innocent conversation tries to drive a wedge between Hisao and me. _I would much rather we tore each others hair out on the kitchen floor. _

However perhaps it's not my reaction she should be worried about. Hisao's face may be bright red in embarrassment, but under the table beside me his fist his clenched so hard his knuckles shine a pearlescent white. Wishing I could comfort him, explain that I don't care who he used to date and that his mother would never drive us apart. _But none of those options are open to me, all I can do is return to my food. _

Hisao mutters some response that I don't catch and returns to his plate as silence falls across the table. Haru catches my eye and raises his eyebrows in an apologetic kind of way, apparently he's as wary of his wife as I am. _These next few days are going to be hell. _

The only real comfort I have is the prospect of level two on the games console. _Though even gunning down virtual aliens has lost a bit of its charm, now that I know the real monster is picking at her rice in front of me._


	32. A Hostile Environment

_Green and scaled the alien's massive foot hurtles towards my face… with a wet crunch the world goes black. _

I wake with a start, instinctively raising my arms to cross in front of my face. _It was just a dream, just a stupid dream._ I let out a slow breath, feeling my heart thunder in my chest and my phantom hand pulse painfully. Despite this, I find a smile creeping onto my face. _Ha, it must be a mark of how messed up my life is that being killed in my dreams by a video game monster is actually welcome relief. _

Almost without thinking about it I shuffle to the edge of the bed, sending my good arm to rummage about beneath it. I jump slightly when my fingertips encounter cold wooden flooring and it takes me an embarrassingly long time to realise I'm not in my own room - and there are no nearly empty bottles of whisky under the bed.

_Damn it! _

I'm hit suddenly with an enormous sense of loss, as if I had arrived just in time to see the last lifeboat flee my sinking ship. Followed at once with an even greater feeling of guilt. _Not having booze shouldn't make me feel like that. _It was just a stop gap measure so that I didn't wake Hisao or my family by screaming the house down after a dream.

Whisky does a better job of dream patrol than Ikuno ever could. _Unfortunately it works too well._ Drinking before bed doesn't stop the dreams as such, but it numbs them, makes the nightmares feel they are behind a curtain of mist, happening to someone else. _I've not slept so well for a long time. _

Frustrated I roll onto my stomach, pinning my stump in place between my abdomen and the mattress. Biting the soft fabric of the pillow I start to laugh, almost hysterically at how absurd this whole situation is. I'm stuck in a house with a woman who hates me, a boyfriend who after lunch has gone into a kind of coma of apathy and to top it all off, a giant of a man who is perhaps the most henpicked person I've ever met.

_My life is a fucking soap opera. _

Indigent at not making the list of problems my phantom wrenches at my non-existent little finger as if trying to rip it off, however the digit simply stretches sending a jolt of pain up my arm. I feels like the bone is splintering and I gasp into the pillow. _Gah, fine! I don't feel like laughing anymore._

My eyes become moist as I try feebly to control my breathing, a process hindered greatly by a mouthful of Egyptian cotton. Slowly, with the pace of red hot metal cooling the effect starts to fade, not completely, but to a point where the searing pain is manageable.

Letting out a resigned sigh I roll into my back, gently rubbing my bandaged stump, more out of habit than any real hope it might help with the dull ache in the nonexistent appendage. _Whisky would have helped with this as well. _

Cursing my errant thoughts I focus on the sounds of traffic outside, which even at this hour continues to rumble past; an endless stream of moving metal. _There is so much noise here. _

I guess I never appreciated the blessed silence at Yamaku, even my family's dilapidated apartment is only ever shaken by a late night delivery truck occasionally. I don't think this city ever stops, and i'm not sure if that's a good or bad thing.

The pain finally ebbs away, vanishing back into the night. But the damage has been done. _I'm not going to be able to sleep. _

Regretfully I sit up.

The floor seems unnaturally cold on my bare feet as I slip out from under the covers. Pulling down my t-shirt - which had ridden up in my struggles with the alien menace - I tiptoe over to the glass doors, leading out to the balcony.

_Please let this door be unlocked. _

As luck would have it the handle moves easily under my palm. _Thank goodness. _Then again I don't suppose there's much use in locking a door on the eighth floor, any burglar that makes it up this far isn't going to be put off by a cheap lock on a glass door.

Outside the night air is cooler than I expected, I shiver, my sleep shorts offering little protection against the stiff breeze. Looking up I'm sad to see the stars are hidden by the orange haze of the city lights. _Yet another good thing about my secluded school. _

Placing my hand on the railing I lean over the edge, looking straight down to the tiny cars far below.

"Going to jump?"

I leap away from the railing, my heart about to tear itself out of my chest. _The fuck? _Looking around wildly I see the balcony does not serve just my room, but extends all the way around the Nakais' section of building. Hidden half in shadows Hisao smiles softly, trying to hide his obvious amusement.

"Sorry," he says softly, "It was just funny you didn't spot me."

"No fair," I grumble, "And I can't get my own back."

"Why? - Oh…"

My momentary anger fades as the smile vanishes from his face.

"Nice pyjamas," I comment, pointing to helpfully to the sky blue cotton garments with a vague hope of lifting the mood.

With a tiny smile starting to blossom on his face he looks me up and down. Suddenly I feel very aware of just how short these shorts are, and pull on the hem of my tshirt. _Well, at least I wasn't sleeping in my underwear. _

He lets out a soft chuckle, his eyes sparking. "Those are still not as short as my gym kit."

An image of him in those tiny red shorts flashes across my mind, leaving behind a wide smile. In just a few short steps I am by his side, so close I can feel the heat from his arm, together we lean on the rail, our eyes meeting for a moment before we both turn back to the city laid out before us like a chessboard.

"So…" I say, "What brings you out here?"

Pulling his fingers through his messy hair he ponders the question. "You first," he finally replies.

_Right, trust, honesty… right. _

"I had a nightmare," I say simply, not looking up.

"A bad one?"

"No more than usual." I shrug.

_I sound like a sullen teenager, and I know it, but I'm not entirely sure how much I really want him to know._

"So you have nightmares often?" Hisao asks with concern.

"I guess." Again I shrug. _Come on Miki, you can do better than this. _

"Do you know what phantom pains are?"

To my relief he nods. _Telling him is one thing, explaining is quite another. _I feel him shift so our arms are touching, an act I take as an open invitation to rest my head on his shoulder. _It's funny, I always thought I would feel different after telling someone else about the ghosts and dreams. _

Silence falls between us, and I wonder what Hisao is thinking. As far as I can work out there are two options, either he will think I'm some fragile flower that needs protecting, or he will realise just what kind of damaged soul he has hooked up with.

"I'm sorry," he says at last.

"Don't be, it's not your fault." I reply quickly, before changing the subject as fast as I can. _No one can say I didn't make an effort to open up._

"What are you doing up?"

"Oh, I couldn't sleep. I, well, I was thinking about you to be honest."

"Yeah?"

"Erm, yeah. Look, about what my mum said, well, I'm sorry."

"She's not exactly my biggest fan is she?" I say. The subject of Hisao and this girl - Iwanako - had almost completely slipped my mind. At the time I was more focused on his mothers assault to register much of what she was actually saying. However this girl clearly means something to my boyfriend, though I have no idea what.

"No." He sighs, pulling away from me to lean back over the handrail. "I don't know what's gotten into her, she was never like this with anyone before."

"Perhaps she was expecting to have you home alone after so much time apart?" I say reasonably. Could this women feel jealous of me? _Seems an insane notion, but she certainly carries one hell of a grudge. _But if she wanted to spend time with her son why wouldn't she just say? I'm hardly going to object, and with an entire city I'm sure I can find something to amuse myself. She clearly has no qualms about trying to split us up over lunch, so why not just ask?

_I already know the answer. _She's the type of person he would rather destroy me than open herself up to accusations of being rude. In other words a bitchy middle school bully through and through. _But I will not be bullied, not again, no, it's on bitch. _

"Did you hear me?" Hisao nudges my shoulder, bringing me crashing back to reality.

"Sorry no, I was lost in my own head." I feel my cheeks begin to burn - hopefully - it's too dark for him to see.

"I was saying it's a bit late to want to spend time with me now, neither of them cared before I had a heart attack." He says, his voice heavy with bitterness. 

"I'm sure they cared about you," I say nervously, deciding against pointing out that an inattentive mother is better than a drunk one. _Anyway it's stupid having a competition about who had the most messed up childhood, even if you win, you lose. _

"Maybe, but they cared about their jobs so much more."

I shrug, "I suppose you don't get a home like this without working hard."

"You're defending them…" Hisao whispers, not bothering to hide the bitterness. Which burns all the more for being directed at me.

"I'm not," I say, trying to keep the defensiveness out of my voice. "It's just I don't think there's such a thing as a perfect family, and the family you do have, well, you will regret losing it."

"I'm sorry," he says - there is no bitterness in his voice anymore - If anything he sounds ashamed. "I should have thought about your dad, I'm really sorry."

_It's not a competition… _

With a sign I sit down on the edge of the balcony, slotting my legs through the bars to dangle in the cool night air.

"It's not just my dad," I say softly, resting my forehead against the cold metal in front of me. _I hope I can trust him. _"My mum, used to drink, like a lot. It's… well you better sit down, it's a long story."

Sitting together under a polluted sky I tell him about myself, no cutting corners or hiding behind shrugs. I tell him everything and answer every question as honestly as I can. It's a terrifying, yet cathartic experience. Thankfully Hisao listens carefully, never looking at me like I'm somehow different, or broken. _His pity would have destroyed us far quicker than his mother ever could. _

"Anyway," I finish feebly, "Enough about me, who's Iwanako?"

He grimaces at the name. I'm not sure if this is a touchy subject, or he simply hasn't mentioned his ex girlfriend - if she even was his girlfriend - while with me. He probably thought I would be jealous of her, not an unfair assumption. But I just can't seem to muster any resentment for this mysterious girl, plus it's not like I've been much more forward with mine and Ayumu's relationship. _Who knows, perhaps she hurt Hisao as badly as my ex hurt me. _

"At school, she... Well, she confessed her feelings, and…" he pauses, his hand raising to his chest. "And I had a heart attack."

_Shit. _

"That's, like… fuck." I can't seem to find the words to describe that admission. It's like something that happens in a movie or comic book, so tragic as to be unbelievable. _No wonder his mood was so dark when he came to Yamaku. _

He gives me a pained smile, rubbing his sternum steadily.

"One moment I'm out in the snow with her, the next I'm locked away in hospital with a…" He doesn't finish his sentence, seeming to talk to himself more than me.

It's terrible of me, but I'm secretly celebrating the fact that my own confession didn't lead to his near death. I'm not sure if I could cope had I been the cause of another death. _Hell, I'm not coping with one. _

"She did come and visit me afterwards, my whole class did. People I didn't even know or speak to would bring me gifts and cards, but their attention soon dwindled until it was only my close friends." He pauses, looking away to hide the sudden dark look that crosses his face. "Then it was just Iwanako, then even she couldn't be around me anymore, and it was just my parents."

"Bitch," I say consolingly.

This at last draws a light chuckle from my understandably somber boyfriend. "It wasn't her fault, not really I wasn't exactly a nice person to be around back then."

"You had a heart attack, not being in a good mood is expected, right?"

Again he laughs softly, his warm eyes finding mine. "I don't blame her, it was hard on both of us. I'm just thankful I managed to find myself, and I have you to thank for that." He leans his head against the bars, watching me with a smile playing at his lips.

"Me? What did I do?" I ask taken aback.

He just smirks. It feels as if a weight has been lifted from his shoulders, and I can't help but share the exhilaration brought forth by his now found freedom. Silently he reaches out through the restless night for my cheek, looking for my lips in the semi darkness, and I happily oblige.

_I should tell the truth more often. _

— — —

"You cannot be serious!" I hiss, a few inches from my boyfriends face.

"I'm sorry!" he replies, failing completely to hide his grin. "It was dad's idea and he bought the tickets before he knew you were coming, I swear I didn't know anything about it!"

"Right, come on! We don't want to be late." Mr Nakai calls loudly from across the worktop that dominates the centre of the kitchen area. I feel like diving on Hisao and refusing to let go unless he stays, or at least agrees to take me with him. Unfortunately he is already out of reach heading in the direction of the door, followed by his giant of a father.

"Have fun girls!" Haru calls over his shoulder. Glancing at his wife I'm surprised his back hasn't burst into flames with the look she is giving him. _At least I'm not the only one completely put out by this arrangement. _

While Hisao and his father are off spending some quality time wandering around some museum, I've been left to the whim of Mrs Nakai. Who by the looks of things is fresh out of mercy. _Hisao better get home in one piece, because I'm going to kill him. _The front door slams with a sound like the trap door on the gallows.

I stand awkwardly in the middle of the kitchen, as she clatters around collecting pots and pans. _I wonder if should just sneak back to my room? _Or better yet, retreat to Hisao's room and his games console. There's a better chance of my super space soldier and the alien invasion working things out than me and this demented woman anyway.

"Are you just going to stand there?" Hisao's mother snarls, not bothering to look at me.

A wooden block containing an assortment of knives catches my eye. _Tempting. _

"I'm sorry, what would you like me to do?" I say as politely as possible, though I feel like shouting.

"What can you do?"

_More than you I bet, and I'm at a handicap. _

"Anything you need me to, we're cooking something right?"

"A cake, yes." She lets out a slow sigh, some of the anger slipping away. "I need to make a phone call, can I leave you to measure out the ingredients?"

I'm about to ask how exactly I'm supposed to know what we need - and in what quantities - when she places a cookbook in front of me, using a bright red painted fingernail to point at the relevant information. It's a little like baking with my grandmother, but lacking her gentle nature and kindly warmth.

"Yes," I say curtly, "Anything else?"

"That should be more than enough to be getting on with." she replies, before noiselessly leaving the room.

With a somewhat surreal feeling I scour the gleaming kitchen for the necessary supplies. My fear that she might not actually have any of the items on the list, and set this task purely to mess with me proved to be unfounded. _Apparently even she's not that cruel. _

Noa returns just as I finish measuring the correct amount of sugar, the last of the ingredients needed. _Digital scales are definitely easier than the brass and chain affair of my grandmothers beach house. _

"Everything ok?" I ask, unable to grasp anything from her neural expression.

To my surprise she answers with something other than the sneer I was expecting. "Quite, unfortunately even on holiday work keeps me busy."

"Yeah, Hisao mentioned you and your husband worked a lot of hours." I say evenly, busying myself with mixing egg and flour. It feels a bit like I'm playing the carnival game with the wire and hoop, where if you accidentally knock one against the other an alarm will sound. _Only diffidence here is I have to watch for saying something stupid, rather than an unsteady hand. _

"You two have known each other long?"

"Yeah, from his first day at school - we share a homeroom."

What follows is some of the most stilted and awkward conversation I have ever had. Still, the cake is coming together nicely, and Hisao's mother is on the verge of being almost friendly towards me. _I can't help but feel that this is what Shizune will be like in thirty years - they will have invented robot ears by that point, or at the very least a robot Misha._

At last all the necessary ingredients have been mixed. _Now how the hell do I get this into the baking pans? _There are very few times nowadays I even notice I'm missing my hand - other than when it decides to forcibly remind me - but looking at the heavy mixing bowl I'm suddenly very much aware of my deformity.

"Need a hand?"

Her reaction is immediate and predictable. With a gasp she covers her mouth with both hands, her eyes wide. _So she said and did all those horrible things without batting an eyelid, but the mere idea that I'm lacking a hand is where she draws the line? _I smile softly, quite enjoying her discomfort.

"I'm so sorry," she mumbles at last, "I didn't mean."

"Don't worry, your son said the same thing shortly after we met." She winces when I mention Hisao's awkward turn of phrase, "And, like I said to him, I could do with some help."

With a quick nod she quickly moves to lift the bowl, and together we split the mixture evenly into two baking tins. Her rapidly adjusted attitude seems to be more than a passing phase as she throws me a wide smile. _Her face seems to lighten and soften with her grin, and I can just barely see echoes of the dimples that feature on her sons face. _

_Though I can't help but feel put off. _She only started treating me with a semblance of courtesy _after _she was made acutely aware of my missing hand. _I don't know if that should annoy me or not. _

"It must be hard, living with…" She gestures to my stump. _Apparently "only one hand" is too rude to even mutter. _

"I've gotten used to it," I reply, bending down to open the oven door, the heat hitting me like a solid object.

"So, you've not always…" Again she cuts herself off.

It's a little disconcerting having what is an essentially a stranger be even this open when enquiring about my deformity. _Then again half an hour ago she looked fit to murder me, so this definitely a marked improvement. _Plus I suppose I should not expect any less from my boyfriend's mother.

"No, I've only been at Yamaku for two years." I reply, sliding the second pan inside and closing the oven door.

"You're parents must have been beside themselves."

"They were inconsolable." I can't help but smirk and my own rather sick joke, which luckily Hisao's mother misses, having turned to prepare drinks.

She offers me a cup of tea, and we sit in peaceful silence, the rumbling of traffic the only sound - other than the occasional clink of porcelain on marble.

"Can I ask you something?" I say, biting my bottom lip. _This might be a mistake. _

Noa, holding her mug in both hands as if sheltering from the cold nods.

"What was Hisao like before," again I find myself biting my lip, "Before Yamaku?"

"You want to know if he's changed?" she asks, eyebrow raised.

I nod quickly, I was expecting outrage.

"He actually changed quite dramatically since we last saw him." Her tone is neutral, her lips pursed.

_She's unhappy that her son is no longer - how did he describe it - _'Not a nice person to be around'?

"But, that's good right?"

I might be pushing my luck, but her reaction has me mystified.

"It is, of course it is," she pauses to sip at her tea, "You've done something I never could."

_What? _

Her eyes, so reminiscent of Hisao's are fixed on the mug in her hands. She's not angry anymore, and it's hard to believe she ever was. All at once she seems older and weaker. _This is who she really is, behind the face she puts on to face the world. _Selfishly I picture my reflection in the bathroom mirror, bruised eyes and bottle in hand.

_No, that isn't who I really am, it doesn't work like that. _

"Why haven't you been in Hisao's room?" I ask quietly.

She sniffs audibly, and I suddenly feel an immense wave of guilt. All my plans for revenge feel almost barbaric, even if they felt all too justified at the time.

"It was like he had died," she whispers, "There was a boy in that bed, but he wasn't my little boy, not anymore."

I find myself rubbing my eyes on the back of my hand as she continues in the same hushed, almost panicked whisper.

"Nothing I did seemed to make any difference, he was slipping away. Even when everyone was telling me how lucky he was to still be alive, I could see him slipping away." She pauses just long enough to wipe at the corner of her eyes with her thumb, the bright red painted nail an alarming contrast to her sullen face.

"Even when he was strong enough to go to school he was so distant, he never wrote and hardly called. I've lost him."

"You haven't," I say quickly, startled by the sudden revolution. _He never even wrote home? _

"I've seen the way he looks at you," she sighs hopelessly.

_What does she mean by that? _

"Look," I say desperately, "Waking up in hospital is horrible, even worse when you find out your life is never going to be the same. It feels like your world is ending and nothing anyone says or does can make that better. The only thing that helps is time, time to see that you can still have a life, it's just different than it was before."

_I sound like my grandfather. _

"That's the only difference, Hisao still loves you, he just needed time to accept things have changed." I finish with what I hope is an encouraging smile.

"I'm sorry if I was hard on you," she says, finally setting her now empty mug down in front of her.

"It's okay," I reply, "And Mrs Nakai?"

"Yes?"

"I'm going out with your son."

"I know."

We share the smallest of smiles across the countertop, before the buzz of the oven timer causes us both to jump. Abruptly ending the moment. _Not that I mind too much, this whole morning has been one surreal event followed by another._

It's like the conversation of just minutes ago never happened, as together we return to the act of creating a picture perfect cake. The only difference is the animosity between us, or lack thereof. _She still has things she needs to work through, but then so do I. _Like getting my boyfriend to call his damn mother once in awhile.

_As first meetings with your boyfriend's parents go this was hardly orthodox, but then again when is normal ever the case for me? _

— — —

"This looks amazing." Hisao grins, eyeing our cake. Which now resembles a mountain of pink icing, capped with snowy peaks of candy sprinkles.

"Thanks," I say a little bashfully. "How was the museum?"

"Fantastic," Haru announces boisterously from beside his wife. "I do enjoy spending time with very old things, makes me feel young!" His laugh reverberates around the kitchen, catching all of us up in his good mood. Even Noa - now back to her familiar mask of cold indifference - cracks the smallest of smiles.

I nudge my boyfriend, who turns to me with a smile.

"What's up?"

"Think we can sneak away to your bedroom?"

His eyes grow wide and his mouth hangs open, making him look a little like a frog.

"To play video games." I laugh, "What did you think?" I ask, raising my eyebrow. _As if I couldn't guess, honestly, boys. _

"Exactly that, yes, video games. Just what I was thinking." He plays it cool, but I can't help but notice the sudden brightening of his cheeks.

"Mum?" He says, now looking over to his casually chatting parents. "Can we be excused?"

"Hmm," her eyes flicker to mine for just a moment, but the malice I'm familiar with has vanished. "Of course you may, I'll call on you when dinner's ready."

We waste no time in getting to Hisao's room. We take our normal spots leaning against the bed, and wait - not altogether patiently - for the game to load.

"Sorry about today, did she give you a hard time?" Hisao asks, tearing his eyes away from a loading bar that seems to be moving just a little slower than the average tectonic plate.

"I think we've come to an understanding of sorts," I report happily.

"What happened?"

"I'll tell you later," I reply, nodding towards the balcony. Just as the eerie orchestral music starts to play, signifying that the game at last had loaded.

"Aww," Hisao coos, " I don't even get a hint of whatever it was that caused this miraculous change of heart?"

"Nope," I grin, "But I think we should be able to enjoy the rest of our time here much more now, or at least, I will be able to."

"Good to hear, ready to save the world?"

"Always."

Hisao hits start.


	33. Sea Salt, Blackmail and a Horse Named

"Why, oh why, did Ikuno's parents think this was a good idea?" I ask, stepping closer to Hisao and wrapping my arms around my chest in an effort to ward off the chill wind whipping between the tall buildings. The temperature is not helped by the fact that it's not even sunrise yet.

It's so early in fact, that Hisao and I had to say our goodbyes to his parents last night. _At least I'm leaving on better terms than I arrived. _

"Well, the traffic can be fairly chaotic in the mornings?" My boyfriend shrugs, wandering away from me and the bags to pace back and forth between the patches of orange light. Even at this hour a steady stream of traffic trundles by on the road in front of us, the sudden glare of their headlights replaced by the curious looks of their drivers. _Though with malice or interest born of boredom I can't be sure. _

_Either way their gaze makes me feel increasingly uncomfortable. _This isn't the rebellious night of my home town, where I could run free, protected by a knowledge of the streets and the silence that ruled there. Here, it's different, here I don't want to be alone.

"Hisao," I say softly, keeping my voice level. _I cannot let him know I'm unnerved. _

He turns on the spot, his eyes darting expectantly to the road, before settling on me.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah," I say holding out my hand for him to take, "Just cold and tired."

"Me to," he replies with a warm smile, locking his fingers with mine, "Your hand's freezing," he says in surprise.

I shrug stepping forward to rest my forehead against his shoulder. "So is the rest of me, that's why I've got you, to keep me warm."

"Good to hear I'm useful for something," I feel his body reverberate as he laughs softly.

I close my eyes, content to leave Hisao on watch duty. My mind is half asleep, but my body feels restless. I'm torn between my comfortable position lent against my boyfriend and an insane fantasy, running off into the night until I feel right again. _There's only so much energy that can be burnt on a video game. _

Hisao's lips gently brush the hair on top of my head, causing a tingle to run down my frigid spine. _It took him a long time to find his initiative, but it was worth the wait. _I give his hand an appreciative squeeze.

"Chin up," he says suddenly, "I think this is for us."

Opening my eyes I look to the road, where a black limo is pulling up against the curb. _This almost makes getting up super early worth it, almost. _

Wordlessly the driver - a finely suited gentleman - unfolds himself from the car, before opening the back door for us. _This is either excellent service or the most polite kidnapping in history. _We move to pick up our bags, an action that finally spurs our chauffeur to break his professional silence.

"Please, make yourselves comfortable," his voice is soft but clear. "I'll see to your bags momentarily."

"Um, okay, thanks." Hisao says nervously.

I mumble my own thanks and, still holding Hisao's hand, climb into the squishy leather interior of the limo. My mouth falls open as I take in my surroundings. Joining me on the sofa-like bench that runs the length of the car my boyfriend looks equally impressed. It's a little like sitting in a mobile version of the up market shops Ikuno is so fond of - rich wood varnished to a mirror-shine is inlaid with intricate trails of blue, which shine through every gap and joint in the decor. Directly in front of us a small fridge sits below a work surface, the glass door revealing an astonishing collection of beverages.

"I was expecting a taxi," Hisao says hoarsely, leaning back into his seat with an impressed look.

"She never does things by half." I grin, my boyfriend in his slacks and black sweater looks very suited to this type of transport. _Looking down at my simple t-shirt and ripped jeans I feel suddenly very scruffy. _

The driver shuts the boot with a soft thud, and a few seconds later he is climbing back into the driver seat.

"No," Hisao grimaces, "She can't even arrange to have us picked up at a normal time."

The driver turns in his seat to face us, his brilliant turquoise eyes falling curiously on me. "My apologies for the early hour. Young Miss Komaki seemed to think this was a rescue mission, needed in quite some urgency."

My eyes meet his, and I realise he's much younger than he looked under the shadowy streetlight - perhaps only a few years older than Hisao and I. _Then again I suppose that's why he's on the graveyard shift. _

"Really?" I ask, taken aback by his age and the frankness of his statement. _For some reason I was expecting a more or less robotic response, conceived amongst the convoluted rules of etiquette - not that I know any of the rules, mind. _

"Indeed, she and her father had quite the row over the arrangements. Had she had her way I believe you would have been picked up last night." He finishes speaking with a grin, before his face morphs into a uniformed look of horror. "Would it possible, if it's not to much trouble of course, to omit telling anyone I told you that? I fear I spoke out of turn"

His way of speaking reminds me of Ayumu. _A depressing fact in of itself. _But I get the impression this young man's extended vocabulary comes with the job, rather than a desire to make himself sound smarter than everyone else.

_Which probably wasn't Ayumu's reason either, but I find it hard to remember him with anything other than contempt. All those beautiful memories are tainted with the husky voice of my replacement. _

"We won't say anything," Hisao says, an equally mischievous look slipping onto his face, "If you do something for us."

I blink at him, mouth slightly open. _What the hell is he planning?_

"What did you have in mind?" The driver asks nervously

— — —

As it transpires what my ever thoughtful boyfriend was planning was a trip to a drive through fast food restaurant. Where we bought possibly the most unhealthy breakfast I've ever had. Processed egg, bacon and what was apparently supposed to be sausage all sandwiched in a greasy bun. _If I had an excuse to run before I have even more of one now. _The food is delicious though. _And it's acquisition via blackmail does nothing to take away from the taste. _

"Thanks," I call to the driver as we pull out of the car park. "Your secret's safe with us," I add as an afterthought.

"Appreciated," he replies, "I will give you two some privacy."

With a gentle whine a black panel slides up out seemingly nowhere, separating us from our talkative driver. _I think he just wanted to get away from the smell of the food. _

I lean back on the sofa, taking a competitive bite of my burger. Beside me Hisao does the same, and side by side we enjoy our breakfast as our luxurious transport glides easily through the traffic, under a sky caressed by the first hints of daybreak.

_I think I could get used to this. _

— — —

_With a deafening crash Tatsuo's truck rips through the last of the construction workers' pedestrian defences. The tires roar on rough ground, suddenly the sound and vibrations cease, replaced by an all encompassing silence. We hurtle towards the dark water…_

I wake with a jolt, monetary lost in time and space as the blue lights of the limo swim into view. My hand feels like I'm clutching a red hot cannon ball, which I'm unable to let go.

"Are you okay?" Hisao's voice reminds me that I'm not alone.

Rolling onto my back I find myself staring up into his concerned face. _I must have fallen asleep on him - again. _Though quite how my head ended up resting on his lap like a strangely textured pillow is anyone's guess.

Nodding slowly in response, I push my stump into my stomach. _I don't want him to see me in pain. _Unfortunately the phantom has other plans, and I wince as my imagined fingers twist and bend in unnatural agony.

Putting down his book he tentively moves his hand to my head. With the gentleness I've come to expect from his touch he runs his fingertips through my hair. The shivers racing down my body battle with the shocks being indiscriminately delivered by my disembodied hand.

The pain is visible on my face as I use my stump to push myself up. My boyfriend's expression darkens with worry, but my lips find his before he can voice his concern. _A distraction works where no pain killer will. _Closing my eyes I explore his smooth cheek with my fingertips.

"I should let you fall asleep on me more." He mumbles between hastily stolen kisses.

"Mmmm, you should." I'm surprised - not to mention embarrassed - by how hungry my voice sounds. It would be lying to say I didn't want more - and more intimate - physical contact between us. _But he wouldn't rush me, so I won't rush him - even if it's surely tempting. _

"I'm sorry for interrupting," the driver calls. His clearly amused voice causes both of us to jump, and quickly return to our seats; redfaced and bashful. "But we are about ten minutes from our destination, if you wanted to make yourselves look…" He pauses to think, "presentable."

_Okay, more physical contact, less company. I think that's a plan I can work with. _

— — —

"Miki!" Ikuno almost screams as I step out of the limo, sinking into the gravelled courtyard with a crunch. Before I'm even able to register the mountain of white wood before me I'm struck around the middle by a brown haired bullet.

"It's so good to see you!" She says excitedly, her arms wrapped tightly around my chest.

"Mmm-hmm," I manage to say as I exhale what very likely could be my last breath. _At least she's keen to see me. _

After what feels like an extremely long time she pulls away, and I at last get a proper glimpse of her, or better of what she's wearing. A pair of figure hugging black trousers, with a lining of tougher looking martial disappear under a black blazer much like we have at school, but clearly at a much greater cost.

I peer down at her high leather boots, and suddenly I can't help but laugh. "So you do have a horse!"

"No! Well okay, but they are my mum's really."

_Unbelievable. _

"And you two get to ride them." Ryouta's announces gleefully. Standing behind his girlfriend I hadn't noticed him. I half expected to see a matching riding outfit, but he seems to have gotten away with jeans and a t-shirt. _Which might be just as well. I'm not sure I would have survived my fit of laughter. _

"Ryouta!" Ikuno cries in exasperation. "I was going to tell them."

I share a sideways glance with Hisao, who raises his eyebrows at me.

"Is that why you got us up super early?" I ask, "To ride a horse?"

"Not exactly, I just wanted to see you. You don't mind do you?"

Looking up I notice Ryouta give his girlfriend a worried look. _Well, that's odd. _I'm not sure I entirely believe her motives, but her excitement is infectious - if not a little overbearing.

"I suppose not, let us take our bags inside, and then we can come and see Sorbet and Lemon drop."

A wide smile blooms across my best friends face, "That's not their names! and don't worry about the bags, we have people for that."

_Well, that was a little rude of her. _

"Are you sure?"

"It's what they are paid for, come on I can't wait for you to meet them." Without another word she hurries away, linking her arm and her boyfriend's stump.

Hisao and I follow, at a more relaxed pace. _I could argue with Ikuno, but it's no use. Once her mind is set on something it's almost tragic to disappoint her. Like stealing a saucer of milk from a kitten. _

Without really thinking about it I take my boyfriend's warm hand, and together we stroll around the 'beach house', though it's nothing like the small stilled structure that once belonged to my grandmother. In fact there's something distinctly out of place about the mansion, it's definitely not built in any style native to Japan. Constructed primarily of white wooden planks and grey slate tiles it reminds me of an idealised American ranch, like something out of Ryouta's movies.

"So," I say elongating the vowel as I struggle to get my mind back on track, "Do you know how to ride a horse?"

"No, never really thought I would need to."

"Do you think it will be a problem that all animals hate me?" I ask, only half in jest. _I once engaged in a prolonged campaign of trying to get the neighbor's cat to like me, operating under the old adage that we would grow on each other. Despite my best efforts the only things that grew where the malevolent creatures malice and the latticework of scratches that covered my arms. _

"Don't know what you're worried about, pets aren't allowed in our apartment building."

"Just, don't let it eat my other hand." I say, trying and failing to sound serious.

"Deal, as long as you stop it kicking me in the chest," Hisao replies in equal mock sincerity, managing to keep up the act fractional longer than me, before bursting into laughter. _I hadn't thought about his heart. _Ikuno and Ryouta don't know about Hisao's condition, as far as I know. Should I say something? It would be a great way to piss off my boyfriend, but at the same time I was silent about my dad. _And look how that turned out. _

"You okay?" Hisao asks as we pass a shallow yet wide pond, sunk into the courtyard that sits in the middle of the manor. _How much did this place cost? _More than I could ever even dream about probably. I stare intently at the ghostly shapes of Koi carp gliding effortlessly under the simmering water as I consider my response.

"Are you sure it's safe for you to ride a horse?" I ask tentatively.

"Oh," he falters, misstepping and tripping. I grab his arm to steady him. "I will be fine, how about you? Will you be able to hold on?" There's a harshness to his voice that he seems to imminently regret, his eyes flashing dangerously before sinking to stare at the ground in the next moment.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean-" He starts, but I cut him off.

"Even if I fall off, I bounce, you know?" I explain as gently as I can. _It's not like I wasn't expecting his reaction. _I hate to be told I can't do something, no reason Hisao would not be the same. Still, there's no getting around the fact that my boyfriend's mistakes - however unfair it might be - have a higher price on them than mine.

"I promise to be careful." He says, a smile returning to his lips.

"Extra careful," I reply as we pass through yet another car sized gap in the behemoth sized building.

"Extra, extra careful." He nods.

"And I want a kiss as soon as you're done, to prove you're alright."

"Deal."

— — —

"We're going too fast!" I blurt in a hushed whisper, afraid anything louder might alarm Kuri, the chestnut mare that is currently saddled underneath me.

"We're barely walking," Ikuno says at a normal volume from the ground beside me, a stupid grin on her stupid face. _How did I let her talk me into this? _

"Shhhh," I say desperately, "Her ears are moving!"

Ikuno's giggles. _If I somehow survive this encounter I'm going to kill her. _"Anyway I thought you liked running fast?" She asks, her large eyes glinting.

"I do, when it's my legs doing the running, I don't trust this thing."

"Awww, poor Kuri, you're not a thing are you?" Losing all sight of reality my best friend begins to talk to the horse as if it were a child, a child moreover whose feelings I just hurt. Apparently satisfied that the horse has been adequately apologised to on my behalf Ikuno clicks her tongue - the only piece of communication in her entire tirade to register with the mare.

Almost at once we begin to move faster, so much so that Ikuno has to gently jog to keep up. _Don't fall off, don't fall off. _I desperately suppress a squeal as I'm bounced up and down in the saddle, feeling like I will be flung sideways at any moment. 

"Ikuno," I whimper, no longer able to keep up my facade.

My best friend finally catches on to how uncomfortable I am, and a few thoroughly unpleasant seconds later the horse begins to slow. Ikuno apologises unnecessarily as she leads Kuri back to the stables. I make a token effort at explain it's not her fault, but I'm distracted by a burning desire to get back to solid ground.

I leap off of Kuri almost as soon as we reach the stables, ignoring the neatly dressed stable boy and his outstretched hand. The feeling of mud - or at least I hope it's mud - under my feet is exquisite, as I stagger away from my mount. I take a few deep breaths, feeling foolish for my reaction.

"Are you okay?" Ikuno asks rather hopelessly; a sad defeat in her voice.

Closing my eyes I force my composure back onto my face before I turn to face her.

"Yeah, just not sure horse riding is my thing." I smile weakly, strolling over to her and Kuri, who eyes me with mild interest. "Can I stroke her?" I ask.

Ikuno blinks at me, her eyes reigniting. "Sure, but I thought you didn't like her?"

I tentatively reach out my hand, prepared for the pain that normally follows my attempts to bond with an animal. However Kuri seems to relish the attention and makes no move to stop me gently stroking her wide head.

"I like her, riding her freaks me out though." I say, my heart rate slowing, along with the thundering in my ears. Somewhere in the paddock behind me Hisao and Ryouta are talking delightedly, apparently not at all put off by their equestrian partners. And somewhere the subtle sound of the sea rolling in and out. _I had almost forgotten this was a beach house. _

"Do you want me to stay with you?" Ikuno offers - though it's easy to see she's reluctant. _It's a mark of our friendship that she would skip out on something she loved to hang out with me. _

"Nah, I'll watch from over there." I gesture to the grassy man made mound that runs along the length if the vast gardens - or at least as far as I can see, the open paddocks and fields fade into a thick forest with no signs of a boundary. _I suppose being able to see the edge of your land from bedroom window is something reserved for the poor. _

"Are you sure?"

"Very, go have fun!" I say, finally pulling my hand away from the horse. Who - and I might be imagining this - looks a little disappointed.

— — —

The mound turns out to be steeper than it append from ground level, and I almost slip while clambering to the top. However I retain my balance and reach the gently curved peak with dignity - and all other major appendages - intact.

_Oh... Wow._

A strong breeze, infused with sea salt hits me as I look out over what has to be one of the most beautiful sights I've ever seen. From this vantage point it's possible to see the entire beach, in all its curving white sanded majesty. It looks like the front cover of any number of travel brochures made real and enhanced far beyond what any photograph could ever show.

I sit down, letting the neatly trimmed grass tickle my palm, while allowing the chaotic sounds of the stables behind me fade to nothingness. Focused only on the sea, which seems to murmur rather than roar. _Why the hell is this view obscured from the ground? _

The question digs at me until I'm hit by a slightly stronger gust of wind, which flutter my hair back and plays at my neck and suddenly exposed ears. _Is it for the horses benefit? _That would make sense, I never felt any unexpected blusters while I was riding. _Thank goodness. _Still, I think I would rather have a cat and this view.

It's hard to tell just how long I spend watching the surf rolling over itself on the shoreline. But my eyes start to feel increasingly heavy, despite having slept in the car. _I guess I'm so used to constantly hurrying about that my body interprets any respite as an opportunity to catch up on some much needed sleep - can't say that I blame it. _

I lay back in the grass, overcome by a sudden but complete sense of peace. Clouds drift lazily overhead, seeming to match my own lethargic state. _The only thing that could make this better would be a warm Hisao to curl against. _My cheeks warm at the thought, and the heat only becomes fiercer as I hear someone climbing the hill behind me.

_It's a little risky to be so touchy feely, especially because I've not yet met Ikuno's parents - still, we could have fun seeing how close to the line we can get without crossing it. _

I'm cast in shadow, and with a mischievous grin on my face I look up and behind me.

"Ryouta?" I exclaim, sitting up so fast I feel momentarily dizzy and almost end up flat on my back again. Ryouta places a steadying hand on my shoulder, making sure I'm not going to pass out before slumping down beside me.

"You look half asleep, Hisao been keeping you up half the night?" He asks in his normal cheerful tone.

"Yep," I yawn, thinking about our long talks on the balcony shared by our rooms at Hisao's apartment.

"Really?" Ryouta's face suddenly comes alive with a mixture of delight and curiosity. Like a little boy on christmas morning.

"No!" I say quickly, almost shouting as I catch up with his ridiculous double entendre. "I thought you were riding around with the others?" I ask, rubbing my eyes with my stump.

"It gets dull after awhile," he shrugs, "It's not really my thing."

"Nor mine," I smirk, "So you decided to come and annoy me instead?"

"I can go if you want." His voice is suddenly cold, and he makes to get up. _The hell? _

Without thinking I grab his thin arm before he can stand up fully, pulling him back to the ground.

"Get off me!" He almost snarls, though his pudgy face betrays not anger but hurt.

"No!" I say, my voice breaking a little, "What the hell, I wasn't being serious! How long have you known me?"

With a sigh Ryouta stops trying to pull away, and I feel confident enough to let go of his arm. Peering over my shoulder I check to see if our friends have noticed the confrontation on the top of the hill, but they are both still riding. Now cantering up and down one of the larger paddocks in a display that makes me feel instantly queasy. I turn back to my plump friend, only to find him staring forlornly into the distance. _I haven't seen him this upset since… _

"Has something happened between you and Ikuno?" I ask, remembering the look he gave us when we first arrived.

"No, not, exactly."

"What does that mean?" I ask.

"It's just, well, you've seen this place?"

"Parts of it, yeah?"

"I could never afford to live in a place like this." He sighs.

"Neither can ninety nine percent of the population, what's your point?"

_Bloody boy is only ever this cryptic with things that upset him, everything else goes from brain to mouth without a second thought. _

"My point is that Ikuno is used to living like this, she's used to ordering the staff around and never having to worry about the cost of anything."

"I had noticed that about her," I say, "But I still don't really understand what you're getting at."

"I can't give Ikuno the life she's used to." he replies mournfully, pulling blades of grass from the ground one by one.

"About the only person on her pay scale is a prince." I shrug, still not all that clear on what's upsetting him so much.

"She should be with a prince."

_How on earth has he managed to get himself so down? We're on holiday. _

"What? A spoiled brat that has had everything he ever desired handed over straight away and has never had to struggle a day in his life? No, Ikuno doesn't need that. What she needs is someone to keep her grounded, to make her feel safe, and most importantly, she needs someone to make her smile." I smile a little at the shocked look on Ryouta's face. "She loves you, no amount of money will ever change that."

He goes to say something, but stops himself, staring rather sheepishly at his shoes instead. _Most people don't realise that Ryouta's carefree confident attitude is a mask for a whole boatload of self doubt - I didn't, not for a long time. _I turn my attention back to the crashing waves, far off in the distance.

"Thanks, Miki."

"You're welcome, I suppose I should be the one to make you smile once in awhile, huh?" I say with a smirk.

"I knew I was letting you hang around with us for something." His tone is serious, but he can't keep the grin from his round face.

"So, what do your parents think of all this?" I gesture vaguely in the direction of the house, as if it wasn't clear.

"Oh, hmm, I think they were a bit overwhelmed to start with." He shrugs, "But they seem to get on well with the Komaki's and my little sister adores Ikuno, she'll probably like you as well."

_If children are anything like cats she won't. _

"Never really had much experience with little kids," I mumble.

"Nah, you two have a lot in common, you both run fast and throw massive tantrums when you don't get your own way!"

Ryouta rolls onto his knees to avoid my punch, laughing his head off as he does so.

"Too slow, anyway, I'm going to go see the others, wanna come?"

I consider his offer. _If for no other reason than to deliver the missed punch. _But I'm in no hurry to get back to the horses, and anyway it's comfortable here.

"Nah, I'm good. Have fun."

"You sure?"

I nod. _I try not to be actively antisocial, but sometimes it's nice to treat myself. _Breathing in deeply, as if the sea air were a fine wine to be drunk before it spoiled I listen to Ryouta's descent down the hill. I half expect to hear him slip and fall over, and I find myself tensing, preparing to run to his aid. However the sounds of shoes against gravel indicate he has arrived safely.

After his footfalls have faded I once again allow myself to sink onto my back, before stretching my arms out above my head. The breeze and feel of ticking grass the only sensations that seem to matter. _If I could just lie here, like this, until the end of time that would be just lovely. _

Unfortunately that wish is interrupted by yet another person climbing the mound. _I really hope it's Hisao this time. _

"Hey," Ikuno says, "Could we talk?"

I feel like signing, but instead sit up smiling at my best friend. Who looks just as downhearted as Ryouta did. The thought of turning her away crosses my mind, after all I'm hardly in the best position to be doling out life advice. But what kind of friend would I be if I did that?

So I gesture for her to continue, finally understanding why she was so adamant for me to arrive.


	34. Wine, Scandalous Advice and Moonlight

Ikuno settles herself uncomfortably in the grass beside me. Her sapphire eyes staring fixedly at the vast expanse of ocean before us - a feature of her wealthy parents' beach house. _Though manor would be a more accurate description. _

Her mouth opens and closes a few times, as if she were building herself up to say something only to find she doesn't have the words. _That's worrying. _Ikuno has never been one to shy away from talking about her boyfriend. _Unless my guess about what's bothering her is wrong. _

"Hey," I say as softly as I can, unsure what reaction I will get.

She looks at me, a worried frown creasing her round face.

"Hi," she replies at last. "Can I talk to you about something?"

"Always," I answer, an uneasy feeling settling in my stomach. _Since when is she this cryptic? _

"You have to promise not to hate me, okay?"

"Why would I hate you?"

She shrugs, "I just think you will."

"Well, I promise not to. Now what's going on?" I pause, racking my brain for any clue to her sudden distress. "Is this why you got me out of bed at ridiculous o'clock in the morning?"

Nodding very slowly she curls her legs up to her chest, resting her chin against her knee. "I've wanted to talk about it for ages, but, well it never seemed like the right time."

"Right?"

She swallows hard. "Miki, do you think I have a perfect life?"

It's hard not to laugh, but one look of her desperate face keeps my lips tightly sealed. _What the hell is going on?_

"Well," I say slowly, considering what I say next, "No? I don't know, I don't think anyone has a perfect life. Why?"

With a heavy sigh she looks down at her feet, before starting to speak again more slowly this time. "I… I think I might be jealous of Ryouta and… You."

_Okay, what am I missing? _

"I can absolutely assure you a missing hand is nothing to be jealous of," I say with a smile, hoping to lighten her mood a bit. _She looks like she's about to cry. _

Unfortunately my words are met with a small shocked sound, like a kitten stepping on an ice cube.

"I didn't mean like that," she says quickly, the words chasing each other out of her mouth. "I mean - oh Miki this is going to sound horrible I'm really sorry."

I nod at her to continue.

"I'm jealous of your lives and families and, you know, everything."

_Right. _Admittedly it was a while ago but I'm fairly sure I told her about my alcoholic mother and absent father, and she's been waiting ages to tell me this? She waited until we were sitting outside her mansion to say she's not entirely happy with her lot in life?

My phantom hand tingles excitedly, ready for a fight. As I try not to let the resentment and anger brewing in my gut slip onto my face. _Don't shout at her, not yet. _Itell myself forcibly.

"Miki, you're not saying anything," she says timidly.

"I know," I reply flatly, "I'm not sure I understand what you mean."

"It's like, everyone thinks I have this amazing life. And I do, I know I'm really lucky. But I just sometimes wish I could be normal."

"I think almost everyone at Yamaku feels that way," I say with a raised eyebrow.

"I know, I know. It's just stupid things, like my bedroom, I've never had a bedroom that felt like mine until I went to middle school, I've felt more at home away from my family than with them."

_Fucking really? _I've had the same bedroom since I was a toddler, but it didn't feel particularly homely when it's freezing cold and you're drunk mother has passed out without turning on the heating.

_Stop it. _I push my stump into my stomach, the tingling pain creeping up my arm. Ikuno has fallen deathly silent. _Just stop it. _Being angry her for this is both horrible and stupid, she can't help being born rich, anymore than I could have prevented my father going to prison.

It's hard to accept but her wealth in lots of ways has trapped her. Trapped her in a world where her life must appear perfect for the benefit of people who perceive it that way. _Like me. _The gnawing feeling of rage in my stomach starts to fade, replaced by an embarrassed guilt that makes me look away. _I nearly lost it with her. _

"This has really been eating at you huh?" I ask, watching as two fat tears cut their way down her face, leaving glistening tracks in their wake.

She nods, wiping her cheeks on the back of her hand.

"But I don't get it," I say slowly, "This morning you seemed so happy, what suddenly brought this on?"

"I'm good at hiding how I feel I guess," she sniffs, "I just wanted, one last good memory with you, before I told you. in case…" Her voice seems to die in her throat.

"In case I hated you?" I finish her sentence for her.

With pale cheeks she nods, yet more tears falling from her puffy eyes.

Sighing I wrap my arm around her shoulders, pulling her towards me. For a moment it seems like she might pull away, but she relents and leans against me.

"Why tell me now though?" I ask, "We've known each other for years, we shared everything, Ayumu, your screw ups with Ryouta, you never said?"

_I don't know what's worse. The fact that my best friend was preparing to lose me, or that - despite everything - I don't know her nearly as well as I thought I did._

"It's Ryouta."

_At least we are back to familiar territory._

"It's like I'm lying to him. He's spent ages telling me about feeling pushed aside for his little sister, and I get that. But I feel like he would just be really mad at me if I told him my parents forgot about my tenth birthday." She sighs.

"They forgot your birthday?" I ask, astounded. _Does anyone have a family that's just normal?_ Even my mother managed - on occasion - to remember my birthday, usually a few days late with a halfhearted promise to do something to celebrate. _We never did. _

"I guess so, or they were distracted." She shrugs, "My family is all about the achievements Miki, getting the deal through, getting into the best university, getting the top grade, that's the only time they really pay attention to you."

She seems more confident now, as if glad to finally be getting these things off of her chest.

"That's why you worry so much about results?"

_I would not do well as a Komaki. _

My best friend nods into my chest, rubbing her eyes with the back of her hand.

"Well, Ryouta loves you," I say slowly, before she can swerve to far off topic, "He wouldn't be mad at you for being upset your parents missed your birthday, he's not like that."

"I just don't want to risk losing him…" She wiggles out of my arms, shifting a little to sit facing me. "But we can't carry on like that, can we? One of us living a massive lie."

_Oh I don't know, seems to be working out for me and Hisao, at least for the moment. _

"All you can do is tell him the truth. But, to be honest I think you're being a little melodramatic about all of this, people who don't know you might think you're able to spend your way out of shit that upsets you. But we know you, we love you, that's all you have to remember."

_All you can do is tell the truth - easier said than done._

Ikuno face turns dark at me words. _I suppose no one likes being told their problems are melodramatic. _Well her problems aren't, but the idea that all her friends are going to abandon her for sharing them is ridiculous. I brace myself in case she decides to slap me, but after a few moments she seems to regain her focus, and she nods at me.

"I guess, you might be right." She says, her eyes locked with mine. Though her face is far from certain she offers a resolute smile.

_It's been an odd kind of day this one - and it's not even lunchtime. _

"Well, enough about me." She beams and it's terrifying just how quickly she can slip back into her happy go lucky mask. _It must mean something that Ryouta is the only person who seems to be able to make that illusion slip. _Oh sure, she cried and fallen apart in front of me, buy her boyfriend was always the catalyst. _In fact the only time she's really let anything slide is when I questioned just how in control she really was. _

"How were the Nakai's, what did you two do? Tell me _Everything." _

_I'm not sure if we should be moving the subject on. _I can't help but feel she's not telling me something important, something she wanted to say but didn't have the courage to. Now it seems whatever it was is safely hidden behind sparkling eyes and a warm smile.

Distractedly I tell her about my week at the Nakais', a sense of deep appreciation for her outrage on my behalf as I recall the entire Hisao's mum debacle from start to finish. _Though in the end we found more or less neutral ground, her near friendliness while baking soon replaced with a kind of soft indifference. _

I neglect to mention Hisao's ex-girlfriend. It hardly seems worth it, given the relationship lasted about ten seconds and ended in a heart attack. _Though perhaps I should give his heart credit, as far as I know he is still galloping around the paddock. _

"It must have been hard," Ikuno says consolingly, "Not having time alone with each other."

"Well, wasn't so bad, they seemed to leave us alone if we were playing video games." I say with a shrug.

"I didn't mean that type of alone." She smirks.

_Huh…? Oh… _

I feel my cheeks start to warm. _I would be lying if I said I wasn't interested in pursuing a more intimate dimension of the whole boyfriend girlfriend thing. _After all, Ayumu and I shared a bed on the first date. _Not that it's fair to compare the boys. _I'd always just assumed that Hisao would make a move in good time, however now, with the end of our time at Yamaku approaching faster than I could have ever imagined two years ago, I can't help but feel time is running out.

"We've not really spoken about... that." I say awkwardly, "I don't even know how I would tell him I'm interested. At least, not without being massively embarrassed."

"You could try standing in front of him in your underwear, see what happens?" She smirks.

"Come on, I'm being serious."

"I am." She laughs, "Did you never," a blush catches at her cheeks, "You know, with Ayumu?"

"No," I say, and I can feel my own cheeks burning, "Not that far anyway. Have you, you know, with Ryouta?"

_I'm not sure I really want to know this, but morbid curiosity has gotten the better of me. _

She nods, raising her hands to cover her mouth and fluorescent cheeks.

_Wow. _It should not be all that surprising, after all they were spending nights in each other's rooms all the way back to last year. _Still, I always kind of thought I would be the first to have that particular life experience, rather than sweet innocent Ikuno. _

"I… Hmmm, so… underwear right?" I mumble, still shaken by her revelation. _I can't believe it. _After everything, all the money and success at school, it's sex that has me feeling jealous of my best friend. _I don't begrudge her, not really, but it feels like a step up in maturity that I thought I was closer to. _

"You don't have to, I just think boys are rubbish with subtle signs. So you have to give them a big one," she giggles, her cheeks still bright red.

"Right." I say, desperately rummaging through my suitcase in my head, trying to work out if I have anything that would be suitable to show Hisao I'm interested in taking the next step in our relationship. Though, if push comes to shove I suppose I always have the option of going naked. _Or at least nearly naked, my mutilated stump is staying safely hidden. _

"Are you on the pill?" she asks, seeming to regain her composure and suddenly sounding a lot more business like.

I shake my head. The nurse in fairness did offer me some of the small white contraceptives, but I politely declined. _At the time sex seemed so unlikely that it didn't seem worth the effort. _A decision I'm quickly regretting. I'm definitely not ready to bring any little track stars with heart conditions into the world.

_That's something I actually hadn't thought of. _Is Hisao's heart thing genetic? _How on earth would we deal with that? _

"Don't worry, I can lend you a..." She makes a gesture, that to my mind at least, is far more obscene than the word 'condom'.

"Um, thanks," I say awkwardly, "But I think I might be getting a little ahead of myself, I don't know if he even wants to do... that."

_Hell I'm not completely sure I'm completely ready either - what if I'm awful at it? _

Luckily before my insecure thoughts or Ikuno's knowing smile can get the best of me a stable boy pokes his head over the crest of the hill, telling us that lunch will soon be served. His face is unreadable and his voice level. So I can only guess as to what he thinks the two of us, sitting closely together with crimson cheeks were doing.

With a certain amount of reluctance I get to my feet, before helping my best friend to hers. _I still don't entirely know where we stand. _But the mask is back in place, and for better or worse we've started to head down the steep hill.

_I just hope lunch goes better at the Komaki's than it did at the Nakai's._

— — —

Our glasses clink in the moonlight, as we make another toast to always being friends - the latest of a number of similar pledges so far tonight. Not that I'm too fazed, Ikuno surprised us with bottles of wine as the sun started to dip below the horizon. Although it might not have been her best move, given the alcohol has affected her far more than any of us, as we finished off two bottles sitting around a table on a hitherto unseen balcony, enjoying some unseasonably warm night air.

I reach for the third bottle, swaying a little as I shift forward in my seat. Wine has been a new - and thoroughly enjoyable - experience for me, the sweet dry flavours are a stark contrast to the whisky that's best swigged like medicine. Filling my own glass I offer up the bottle to Hisao, who nods eagerly. His cheeks are the same warm rosy colour as the wine.

"This is so unfair!" Ikuno slurs, pointing an accusatory finger vaguely in my direction. "This stuff has hardly affected, effected… Affl…" She pauses her nose scrunched up in concentration. "You're not drunk!" She moans at last.

"I am," I laugh, "Just not as much as you!" Which is perfectly true - I can feel the familiar buzz inside my own head. Again, a pleasant change to the world bending haziness I aim for. _I haven't felt this way since before Yamaku. _

"Nah-huh." She says, overextending her pointing finger and falling forward.

I manage to catch her just in time. _An impressive feet with one hand and a wobbly head. _"Right missy, perhaps it would be best if your boyfriend took you safely to bed, hmm?"

"But, there's still wine left." She replies in a voice I'm sure is normally reserved for her mother.

_Do her parents know about this? Or did she persuade one of her numerous staff to arrange things? I suppose the possibility remains that she took the wine from her parents without them knowing - though that wouldn't be very Ikuno-like. _

When I met them at lunch her mum and dad seemed nice enough. Not exactly distant, but definitely hands off. _I get the feeling that a nanny featured heavily in young Ikuno's life. _It would be hard to picture Mrs Komaki - respondent in her jewels and fancy dress - ever dealing with a young child. Unlike her daughter, who spent nearly the entire meal entertaining Ryouta's baby sister.

"Miki wants to get us into bed together." Ryouta sniggers, drifting into the conversation like a cloud.

"That's scandalous!" Ikuno says, falling haphazardly against Ryouta. Who rights her lazily.

"Any help here?" I ask Hisao, who has been watching the spectacle with amusement.

"They're your kids," he comments reasonably, "Though I think I'm going to bed myself."

"Oh, might be time for us to go as well then," Ryouta says, placing a hand on his girlfriend's shoulder.

"Yeah," she replies.

"Wait, wait, wait!" I say rapidly, my ability to keep up with this conversation sadly diminished. "You didn't want to go anywhere when I said, but Hisao mentions he's going and you're all for it."

"He's the smart one," Ryouta annonces.

"Can't argue with that," mumbles Ikuno.

Unfortunately either my intoxication or theirs has rendered my glower completely ineffective. _I will get my revenge for this, in cold blood if needs be - but only after I know my friends are safe._

After much fussing over clearing the table I manage to duck under Ikuno's arm, and gently help her down the corridor, following her boyfriend to one of the two rooms they are meant to be using. _It was a master stroke for her to have rooms up on the top floor of the house, where no one would disturb any illicit sleepovers. _

Ryouta almost falls into the room with his normal levels of grace, and heads straight for the bed, not looking back. Ikuno on the other hand holds onto me tightly, swaying gently in my arms.

"Thanks for bringing me home," she says in a sing song voice, "You're the best friend ever, ever, like, ever."

_Note to self: Wine and Ikuno don't mix. _

"You're welcome, now go to bed. You're going to feel lovely in the morning."

"Miki," she says in a hushed whisper.

"Yes?" I whisper back, unsure about the sudden need for secrecy.

"Wear really cute undies!" She nods to herself, as if she had just imparted upon me one of the great revelations of the age. Before turning haphazardly on her heel and walking into the room. Her hand waving over her head in farewell. I close the door behind her, not able to keep the smile off my face.

Turning around I come face to face with Hisao who is watching me from his own doorway.

"Hi," I say softly, walking towards him with only the smallest sway in my step.

"He-." His greeting is cut off as my lips find his. To my surprise his hands come to rest on my hips, pulling our bodies closer together. His mouth tastes like wine, but I don't mind. _I must taste similar. _After what feels like a long time, but in reality is only a few seconds I break away, my arms wrapped around his neck. "Are you going to sleep? Because I have a surprise for you."

"Oh," he replies, his cheeks flushed from the kiss - or perhaps from the wine. "Will I like it?"

"I hope so," I try to sound confident, but the uncertainty in my voice is clear. "Go get into bed, I will be in soon."

"O... Okay," he sounds half excited and half terrified. _Which isn't too far away from how I feel. _

He slips into his room, eyes not leaving mine for a moment. _Right, you can do this, move. _I glide to my own bedroom, hardly noticing anything. My head is so overtaken by the thoughts of what is about to happen I reach for the handle with the wrong hand, punching the metal uselessly with my stump. _Ow, fuck, not done that in awhile. _Taking a deep breath I try and refocus, opening the door and slipping into the dark room.

"Right," I say to myself, flicking on the light, "Cute… Right."

Quickly I unfasten my jeans, letting them slip down my legs, while at the same time kicking off my shoes and bending over to tear off my socks. My over-exuberant removal of clothes does not mix well with the wine however, and I almost fall over. Luckily I catch myself on my suitcase, which I quickly dig through, pulling out a small black, and disturbingly lacy wad of fabric. _I can't believe Ikuno talked me into buying these. _

I quickly lose the rest of my clothes, and slide into the underwear. In terms of area covered to yen spent this is probably the most expensive piece of clothing I own. But catching my reflection in the mirror they seem totally worth it. _I look good, hell, I look better than good. _I pause reaching for the matching Bra, and instead grab an old baggy t-shirt. _Better to have something to hide in, just in case Hisao laughs me out of the room. _

Before I step back into the corridor I pull one of the small foil covered packages from the box of condoms that Ikuno left for me, tucking it into my waistband. _Well, here goes nothing. _I flick off the light and cross to Hisao's door in two heartbeats, absolutely sure that there will be a maid on hand to spot me and drop her tray of silverware with a deafening clang.

Rushing into the room - which is a mirror image of my own stately guest bedroom - I close the door quickly behind me. Hisao - still fully dressed - sits up a little straighter in bed, his eyes fixed on me; large and alarmed. _Should I say something? Or just show? _Deciding that any action is better than none I stride into a square of moonlight, cast by the large sea-facing windows. _How come he gets a better view? _

"Miki?" He says nervously, his ruby eyes fixed on my legs.

"Hi," I say softly, trying to sound sultry but sounding like an old fishwife. "I wondered if you wanted some company?"

_Wait. That's what hookers say isn't it? Oh fucking hell. _

"I always want your company," he replies, seemingly not noticing my ill thought-out turn of phrase. "You said something about a surprise?"

"I did…" Slowly I raise my arms above my head, pretending to stretch, causing my shirt to ride up to my midriff. My moonlit body has the effect I was hoping for, he looks at me the same way he looked at the mist covered isles on our magical cruise. "May I join you?" I ask, moving my arms to gesture to the bed.

He nods, rubbing his chest. _He's not having a heart attack, that's just what he does when he's nervous - I hope. _

I straddle his legs awkwardly, leaning forward to kiss him. Thankfully he melts against me, and our position goes from uncomfortable to perfectly natural. _Why did no one ever explain to me the exact procedure for this? Do I just start ripping off clothes at random or what? _I shiver a little as his hands meet the bare flesh of my waist.

_That's a good sign right? _

In response to his touch I slide my own hand down to his belt. Supporting myself on my stump I gently slide my hand under his shirt, feeling the warm softness of his stomach. As if we were playing a game of chess Hisao makes his own move, moving his hand up under my shirt to rest on my back. _I guess taking turns makes sense to me. _I walk my fingertips up his torso, to the chest he is always rubbing.

He breathes in sharply, and to my great surprise pushes me away.

"I'm sorry," I say quickly. Sitting up on his legs and wondering what on earth I did.

"No, don't be," he looks disgusted with himself, "I, I should have told you sooner."

_I don't feel the same way - this whole thing was a mistake. _

"I have a scar," he finishes at last.

"A scar?" I ask, confused.

"From the surgery, it's, I.. I've never shown anyone before."

_Oh. _

"I… I've never shown anyone my…" _Is scar the right word for the mutilated flesh at the end of my stump? _"Well, were my hand used to be." I can feel my voice shake. _This wasn't how I pictured my first time. _

He doesn't say anything, and I notice that I've been staring at my stump. Head in front of my face, the unnecessary bandages glowing silver in the moonlight. Slowly, very slowly, with more care than perhaps I've ever done anything, I start to unwind the white cotton from my arm.

"You don't have to do that," he says quickly.

"I want to," I reply, watching the bandage curl into a loose pile on the bedsheets, "I don't want to keep things from you."

He nods, and with the same care that I'm taking with my bandages starts to pull up the hem of his shirt.

"You don't have to do that," I protest at once. _It's not a competition. _

"No secrets huh?" he says, the smallest of smiles slipping onto his face.

"No," I agree, sliding off of his legs, "No secrets."

_Except one. _

The last of my bandages falls away from my arm; at the same moment he pulls his shirt over his head. We meet each other's eyes for a fraction of a second, before refocusing on each other's scars. His runs down the centre of his chest, and I'm uncomfortably reminded of a cadaver after an autopsy. However looking closer I realize that the flesh is not cold and dead, but raised layers of pink and white.

"Can I touch it?" I ask, resting the flat of my palm against his firm chest. Purposely not looking at my stump, but stoically holding it in place for Hisao to see.

"I.. if you want.."

Gently I trace the outline of the wound with my fingertips. It might be my imagination, but I seem to be able to feel the small dents in his skin where the stitches must have been. _Get the idea of a Y shaped scar out of your head right now. _A strange feeling around my arm causes me to look over at Hisao, and I jump in shock.

_Oh... Fuck… _

My boyfriend's pale white fingertips are tracing around the S shaped scar at the end of my wrist. The skin there is numb, but I can feel the ghostly shivers of his touch slither down my arm, like cold water. _Isn't he disgusted? _All at once it feels strangely electrifying but deeply wrong, as if he were touching a deeply personal part of me. _Hell, I think it would be less confusing had he stuck his hand into my underwear. _

"I…" My voice catches in my throat.

Hisao pulls his hand away at once, as if scalded. "I'm sorry," he says quickly, "I didn't mean… I didn't think..."

"It's okay," I reply just as fast, feeling blood rush to my cheeks. "Just, well, I didn't expect you to touch it. It's so ugly."

"No uglier than mine."

I breathe heavily, gently shifting my weight so my head ends up resting against his shoulder. His flesh is hot against my cheek, and from this angle his scar is invisible, only the outline of his supple chest and the curve of his cheek. _I'm suddenly reminded why I came here in the first place. _Resting my stump next to his sternum, in line with the scar I kiss his neck hungrily.

"Hisao," I breathe against his skin, delighting in the feeling of his hand against my hip, "I don't want to think about scars anymore."

"Mmmhmmm," he agrees, "Me neither - What can I do to help?"

_I can think of a few things. _

Careful not to put any pressure on his chest I shift my body once again, assuming my straddling position over his legs. I can't help but grin as, in one motion, I slip off my T-shirt, throwing it over the side of the bed. With my arms by my side I let Hisao's eyes grow wide as he takes in the moonlit sight in front of him.

_And I thought he didn't want me…_

I pull the small silver packet from my waistband, the condom is warm from being pressed against my body. It shines as I hold it in front of me, Hisao looking momentarily confused before the full understanding of my intentions hits him.

"Distract me?" I ask softly.

— — —

Two things strike me when I wake to a room lit by golden sunlight the next morning. Firstly I don't appear to be wearing anything. And secondly - perhaps more importantly - I'm not alone in bed. I turn over, coming face to face with a sleeping Hisao, a warm blush spreading over my cheeks as I remember what we did last night.

_I don't think I could have asked for a more perfect first time. _

I feel a kind of nervous energy that I haven't felt in weeks. As carefully as I can I slide out from under the covers, stretching as I walk over to the window. _Staying in bed is tempting, but I'm too awake to lie still, regardless of how comfortable it is. _The mattress rustles behind me as I extend my arms as far above my head as I can manage.

"It's rude to stare," I say softly, looking over my shoulder to grin at my wide-eyed boyfriend.

"Can't help it, too beautiful," he replies sleepily, "Where are you going?"

"I've not run in ages, my body is cross at me."

Finding my underwear amongst the scattering of discarded clothes is proving to be difficult.

"Here," Hisao says, reaching down between the wall and bed and retrieving the black wad of fabric.

"Thanks," I reply, snatching them with a burning face and quickly slipping them on.

"Would you like me to join you?" He asks, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

"No."Placing one knee on the bed I lean over, kissing his lips softly. "You go back to sleep, I'll catch up later okay?"

He looks like he wants to argue, but a yawn catches him off guard.

I take the opportunity to gently kiss his forehead. "I'll be back, I promise."

_I feel a little guilty leaving him. _This wasn't a one night stand after all. But I can tell he's shattered, and a few more hours sleep will do him good. _Plus, I would be lying if I said I didn't relish the idea of running without politeness to my boyfriend holding me back. _

Turning from the bed I scoop my T-shirt from the floor, slipping it over my head as I make my way to the door - where I pause, a smile crossing my lips when I see Hisao is already asleep.

— — —

My running kit feels like an old friend as I step into the dark musty room. I have to cover my mouth to stop myself from laughing when I see that not only are Ikuno and Ryouta fully dressed draped over each other on top of the bedclothes, but they are both snoring in perfect unison. _Bless them, I almost feel cruel. _

I wrench open the curtains, bathing the room in sunlight.

Ikuno is the first to stir, and she instinctively covers her eyes, squirming on the bed. "W… Why?" She asks with a melodramatic groan of pain.

"Who's the smart one now?" I ask, leaving the room with a giggle.

_Running and revenge, the perfect way to start a day. _


	35. Glossy Brochures

Thanks for all the reviews and follows! Sorry this has taken a little while to come out, I hope you all enjoy.

—-

A puddle explodes around my shoe as I sprint through the torrential rain. The lights of the boys' dormitories glow invitingly through the haze and twilight - a distant sanctuary from the first storm of autumn.

I pull my coat tighter around me as I run, keeping my head down to gain whatever meagre protection the thin hood can offer and regretting more and more with each step not wearing one of Miss Kita's handmade wooly hats. _Still, if it hadn't been for weather like this I may never have ended up with Hisao as a running partner. _Just imagine if Emi had gotten him first. _He wouldn't have lasted a week. _

The end of the summer holidays brought with it a radical change in the weather, that seemed to reflect my mood. Replacing the cool but clear skies with overcast greys and the constant threat of rain. I'm still, in a way, struggling to come to grips with how little time I have left at Yamaku. The high school experience, which at my old school felt like it would last forever has come and gone faster than I could ever have imagined.

Taking the steps two at a time I burst through the heavy glass dormitory door, the sudden almost overwhelming heat hitting me like a concrete wall. Shaking off the hood I begin to unbutton my coat, content to let it drip dry on the wooden floors of the lobby, rather than Hisao's soft carpet.

Along with the weather came the results of our final exams. Surprisingly I didn't do too badly... Not as well as Hisao and Ikuno who more or less aced them_, _but well enough to get into most universities. That's what Hisao says anyway.

_As if that were an option. _

My confession - or lack thereof - has been on my mind a lot lately. I'm running low on excuses now. Even my wish to be intimate with Hisao has been granted. Repeatedly. _Though instead of ticking off an item on the bucket list, it's simply another thing I'm going to have to sacrifice. _

I take a moment to assess the rain's damage. My shoes and the bottom of my jeans look like I've waded through a marsh, but everything else is pleasantly dry. Using the glass of the door - reflective against the backdrop of the storm - I fix my hair as best I can, thankful that I don't have to venture back outside tonight if I don't want to. _Though, it may pay to collect my coat before too many people put two and two together. _

The heat makes my cold skin prickle uncomfortably as I slowly climb the stairs to Hisao's floor. The building is quiet tonight, even with the darkness it is not so late, and I would have expected some of the boys to brave the rain for their clubs or social commitments. _Then again, I feel like I'm on the verge of trench foot, so perhaps they have the right idea. _

_I don't want to spend any more time alone though. _Since I got back to school I've been spending more and more time sitting in my room, waiting for Hisao and Ikuno to get back from their student council commitments. Apparently they are super busy preparing for Shizune's handover to a new, and hopefully less tyrannical, president. _Bloody weather. _None of this would be so bad if I could at least lose myself on the track without getting pneumonia or breaking my neck.

The temptation to return to my dorm and crack open the bottle of whisky that - though hidden safely in my wardrobe - seems to fill the room omnipresently is overwhelming. Thus far I've managed to cope with the dreams and phantom pain, but it's only a matter of time before I give in to my own weakness. Distracted I almost walk into somebody at the top of the stairs - a scarf wearing, bespectacled somebody. _Great, if there's anyone likely to drive me to drink it's Kenji. _

"Sorr-" I start to say, but my apology is cut off almost immediately.

"Waaaargh!" He shouts, the sound echoing all the way down the stairwell. "Aha, thought you could sneak up on me?"

"No, I-"

"Well bad luck, my senses are finely honed and my vision is sharp! You stop right there feminist scum!" He points a finger vaguely in my direction, a look of immense pride on his normally paranoid face.

"It's Miki!" I say desperately, "Hisao's girlfriend, you remember?" I pause, continuing in a much quiet voice, "You added me to the vetted list."

One of the few times Hisao and I have had a strong disagreement was over Kenji's approved female list. But to my mind, If it makes him more comfortable with me being around then it's worth it. _I mean, he's clearly not all there mentally. _As demonstrated by the elaborate, confusing and sometimes highly personal questions he asked me as part of the application process.

"That's just what the feminist inflater that murdered my best friends girlfriend and took her place would say!" He replies knowingly.

_Of course, there is only so much kindness one soul is capable off. _

"You asked for my bra size three times while I was getting on your stupid list! You kept me in your stinking room for nearly an hour asking me question after stupid question! And now that I'm on the list you don't believe I am who I am anyway?" I'm surprised to find myself shouting, all the frustration and dark thoughts of the last few days finally bubbling to the surface.

Kenji takes a step back, mouth slightly open. Before composing himself and replying as casually as if my outburst had never happened. "No need to be so sensitive, security comes first. I'm on the brink of exposing a major feminist conspiracy here."

_It better not have anything to do with my bra size. _

"Yeah?" I say, I know I shouldn't but my curiosity gets the better of me.

"Oh yes, this is the big one! The most evil diabolical scheme mankind has ever faced: Equality."

"You mean, like women getting the vote?" I ask with a raised eyebrow. _Though, I suppose the expression is rather wasted on him. _

"No, no," He replies in a tone as if I were a complete idiot. "That was brought about to get high ranking feminist operatives into positions of power, everyone knows that!"

"Fine, then what's the problem with equality?"

"Missiles."

"Excuse me?" I should have been prepared for something completely insane, but that doesn't even make sense.

"Time was you would have two brave and manly men in charge of launching the nuke. Then along comes feminists saying everything should be equal, so they let a man and a women sit behind the big red button." He pauses, looking around suspiciously. "Then they take it a step further, they say that if it's okay for two men to sit behind the desk, then it must be okay for two women."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah! Then boom!" He claps his hands suddenly, making me jump. "Every bar and bowling alley in mainland Japan removed from existence! It's evil, pure evil - and I seem to be the only one who realises it." He finishes his remarkable sentence a little sadly.

"Well, I know now, so I will keep a look out for you." I say consolingly, but it's hard to keep the smile off of my face. _If you had to say something positive about Kenji, it would be that he has one hell of an imagination. _

"Ah! So you have considered my proposal?" He asks with renewed interest.

"I'm not bugging the girls' changing rooms!" I pause, "Or any other room for that matter."

"Fine, fine! Not all of us are brave enough to step up and do what has to be done!" He sighs dramatically, "I don't blame you though dude, it's a scary world out there."

_He's not wrong. _

"It's a wet world out there at the moment, where are you going without a raincoat?"

"That information is top secret." He says stubbornly.

"So the Aura Mart then?"

"Waaahhh, who told you that?" He takes an alarmed step back, his hands raised in weak imitation of a kung fu master.

I sigh. _I wonder if this is what being a mother is like. _

"Just a good guess, anyway you can't go out there without a raincoat. You'll get a cold."

"Impossible, my immune system is too rugged and manly. Besides this is the perfect weather for covert operations, I shall venture where no feminist dares to tread."

"Unless the feminists are counting on your manliness and so know this is the perfect time to strike?" I offer as a counterpoint.

_It probably isn't the best idea to feed his delusions, but I'm not about to let him make himself sick._

Kenji stands frozen, speechless for the first time I can recall. Slowly he lowers his hands, his gaze resting more or less on me. "You may well have saved my life tonight." He nods sagely at me. "I must plan! But know when the history of the great feminist war is written you will receive an entire chapter!"

Before I can reply he turns on the spot, returning to his room faster than is probably advisable for someone with such limited vision. It takes me a little time to recover from my shock encounter and remember why I came all this way in the pouring rain.

I can still hear the sound of Kenji securing his many locks behind me as I knock on HIsao's door. Hisao opens it a few moments later, a smile dimpling his perfect face. _However much of a pain Kenji is, dealing with him is worth it to see those dimples. _

"Hi," I say softly, "Awful night for it."

"I wasn't sure you would come," he replies. _Though is clear from his grin that he's glad I did. _

Stepping through the doorway I find his lips, as if they were a single star in an empty sky. Closing his door with my heel I pull him closer, fully intending to skip the formalities. _I think I've done enough talking for one night. _

However Hisao seems to have other ideas and pulls away gently, keeping me at arm's length. "Another load of university brooches arrived." Taking a hand from my hip he gestures to a massive pile of glossy books on his bed, "I was just reading them when you knocked," He finishes apologetically.

_Oh… This again. _

Ever since we have gotten back - once the celebrations or in some cases, commiserations of the exam results had settled - the entirety of the third year seemed to have shifted into a kind of university hysteria. People walk to and from class with their heads buried in idealised propaganda about their futures. I can understand why. After all the selection process for higher education has a marked effect on the rest of your life. _But for me, with my future holding nothing but concrete walls, the excitement makes me feel sick. _

Unfortunately my friends all fall into the former camp, and because I'm unable to tell them why I might feel differently I'm forced to play along the best I can. I had hoped Ryouta might share some of my disinterest - after all, he's never shown any great enthusiasm for academia - but he's just as hooked as his girlfriend. _Possibly because she's so hooked. It seems to a foregone conclusion that they will be attending the same uni. _

_Hisao also seems to be thinking along similar lines. _I must have let slip at some point I had a vague interest in being a physical therapist, because he has spent almost every waking moment since trying to find a university somewhere in Japan that suits both our ambitions.

Of course I wish he wouldn't, I have quite enough guilt already. Without him choosing a uni he might not necessarily like under the illusion that I will be joining him. _I should tell him, I know I should tell him. _I had planned to in fact, the last time we were in this situation, but somehow we ended up in bed, everything other than each other banished from our minds.

"I'm not disturbing you am I?" I ask, knowing the answer but compelled by manners.

"Of course not," he pauses, a tinge of crimson warming his cheeks, "I had been hoping you would come over."

I feel my own cheeks redden at his words, and swiftly bending down to undo my sodden shoelaces. "Well my presence comes at a cost," I smirk, "Do you mind if I dry my socks on your radiator?"

_Perhaps not my most ladylike moment - but screw getting trench-foot for the sake of appearances. _

"Your jeans are wet as well," he comments offhandedly.

"Well someone's keen to get me out of my clothes." I reply with a raised eyebrow. _I would have preferred to take my jeans off under more romantic circumstances. _

"No," Hisao says quickly, his cheeks now positively glowing, "I mean, I want to do that, just not yet."

"Sure, sure, I was joking really," I lie, "What do you wanna do?"

_As if I needed to ask. _His ruby eyes flicker to the mountain of paper on the bed.

"Can we just look at this stuff together? Ikuno and Ryouta are constantly talking about it, but for us it feels like I'm doing this alone." There's a definite undercurrent of frustration in his voice which takes me aback.

"Oh, yeah, sure." I say disjointedly, a little thrown by my boyfriend. It's not like I've not seen him frustrated or even angry before, but me being the target of his temper - no matter how subtly - is a new experience, one I could have lived without. "Sorry," I continue, feeling the urge to explain myself, "It just seems like the end of school is so far away, I didn't want to get all caught up in something that's not happening for ages."

_I've never noticed before just how naturally lying to my boyfriend comes to me - it's a little disturbing. Then again who haven't I lied to over the past year? Not even I make that list. _

"I get that," he says, his voice returning to its normal softness, "but if we decide now we can get a head start on the entrance exams."

"Okay! Where do we start?" I reply with all the false cheerfulness I can muster.

— — —

As it turns out I'm so far behind Hisao in his research that I don't even qualify for the bed books, instead Hisao started me off with a pile of brochures retrieved from his wardrobe. I can tell they have been read before by the multitude of post-it notes poking from between the pages, each with a neat handwritten note detailing something of importance on an easily forgotten page.

Now I sit on the floor with my back to Hisao's bed, surrounded on all sides by glossy paper and an earnest wish to never see another smiling freshman as long as I live. The book open on my knees is simply page after page of photographs that were obviously posed for, but are supposed to look spontaneous.

_Focus, you can read a book - even a book that feels like a slap in the face - without getting distracted by the pictures. _

"Find anything you like?" Hisao asks from the bed behind me.

"Well," _What the hell do I say? _"Not really, how about you?"

"One or two, some have tracks but don't offer the courses we want. Others have courses that look good but are in awful locations."

"Hisao?"

"Yeah?" He replies, sliding off the bed to sit beside me, kicking brochures out of the way in the process.

"If… Well, if we can't find a university that suits us both, will you promise you will go to the perfect one for you… Without me?"

He won't understand, but I can't let him be dragged down by me. _Even if it hurts us. _

"What? Don't you want to go together?"

"I do, of course I do." I say quickly, "But I don't know if university is really for me."

"What? Thats ridiculous, why?"

My dry lips are unable to form the words, so I simply shrug. _That won't be a good enough answer for him, but the truth would be even worse. _

He rubs his palm against his head, momentarily closing his eyes. "Miki, you need to stop doubting yourself. Your exam results prove that university is absolutely for you."

"I'm not doubting myself." I reply. _That I deserve to be behind bars is one of the few things in my life I am certain of. _"I just don't think I will do well there…" Could I have given a much more pathetic answer?

My boyfriend is silent beside me, and I can feel his eyes burning into the side of my head. _He's not going to drop this._

Finally, he speaks up. "Look, I know it won't be like Yamaku. And I totally understand how much it must suck to have people stare at.." He gestures to my stump, resting across the book in my lap. "But you can't let that stop you getting the most out of your life."

I blink confusedly at him. _My hand? _He thinks all this is about my hand?

"It's not that." I drag my fingertips down my face, frustrated at not being able to say what I really want to say. "Can we please just drop this?"

"No." He replies sharply, "I want to know why you don't want to get to university with me." Though subtle, there is real anger in his words now.

"I do!" I protest, "But it's complicated."

"So it's a secret then? That's what complicated means here, right?"

I turn my face away, not brave enough to look at him.

"Are you seeing someone else?" He asks grimly.

_What?_

"No! Of course not."

"Then what's going on?"

"I can't tell you," I say, my voice shaking. "But it's not that, I promise there's no one else."

Getting to my feet I risk a glance in my boyfriends direction. As I had feared his face is red, and his eyes - which are normally so warm - are practically blazing with intensity. _How the fuck do I make this right?_

"I think I should go," I mumble, looking away again.

"Wait." He says, and I can hear the bed creak as he uses it to hoist himself to his feet. "I thought we shared everything? When we were at my parents' house I told you everything about myself." His words, normally so measured. Pour from his mouth, getting progressively louder with each syllable.

"I told you everything I could about myself, I've shared more with you than anyone else!" I retort, the heart of my own anger touching at my face. "But there are things you cannot know."

"And you expect me just to accept that? That despite everything you still don't trust me?" His voice is still sharp - and loud - but now his tone is one of disappointment. If anything, it's worse than the anger.

"I do trust you!" I say desperately, "Hisao I-"

He cuts me off mid sentence, "You're right," he says, pale knuckles visible on his curled firsts. "You should go."

"Hisao!" I protest.

"No, I can't do this," he gestures to me, "Whatever this is. Come back when you feel like being honest."

All the fight I have left, the determination that I can save this situation is dashed with one dark look from the boy I love. _And I do love him, fuck! _My feet carry me out of his room, my body numb with shock. By time I reach the stairs I'm sprinting, taking two at a time my vision blurred by tears.

The darkened stairwell feels like a void, or rather a drain, pulling me away from Hisao and into some grim unknown. _Get a grip. _I've known this was coming, I've known from the second we agreed to go out. But I hadn't counted on it hurting so much, it feels like waking up in a hospital bed all over again, part of me is missing, and my future holds nothing but pain and misery.

Reaching the ground floor I almost send a pair of first year boys - twins, wearing matching pajamas - flying as as I shove them out of the way. Any protest is lost under the sound of my feet slapping against the tiled floor, and I don't bother to look back. Heaving open the heavy glass door, I splash out into the rain.

_Gah. _

My shoes and socks are up in Hisao's room. _But fuck it, being barefoot in the rain is hardly the worst thing that happened tonight. _The rough pavement digs into my feet, and I contemplate hopping onto the grass - before realising that will just end up with me flat on my back covered in sloppy mud. The rain hasn't let up at all, and my shirt and the rest of my jeans are soaked, my coat still hanging by the confused boys in the lobby.

— — —

It's something of a miracle that I don't meet anyone on my way up to my room. _That would not have ended well. _One smirk, or smart assed comment would probably have earned the culprit a black eye at best. _A charge of assault would round off my manslaughter charges nicely. _

With the soft patter of water dripping onto the carpet I stare at myself in the mirror that replaces one of the doors on my reflection is disturbingly pathetic, barefooted and windswept I look like the type of vagabond that would hang around the worst parts of town.

And then the pain begins. Slowly at first - as if relishing the task - the phantom creeps into the infinite space at the end of my stump. Twisting and bending cruelly at the rough approximation of a hand that exists there.

It's as if something inside me snaps, whatever cable was holding up the weight of my sanity gives and in one fast, almost practiced motion I lash out at the girl reflected before me. My stump connects with the glass with a satisfying crack, a spider web of fractures resonating out in all directions.

Fragments of my reflection slide the floor, piled before me. _Ayumu would describe that as an apt metaphor for my life. _I feel a kind of sadistic delight as I watch the blood spread under the white bandages on my arm. A small part of my mind tells me how stupid I'm being, how irresponsible. But I push it aside. _Have I not earned this? I have, I've used up everything I have. Now all that's left is the uncontrollable rage that comes from knowing you've lost the war. _

Stepping past the broken glass I pull open the wardrobe door. _Oh sure, I won a few battles. _I tell whichever part of myself I still feel I have to justify my actions to. _It might even have seemed at times that I had won some crushing victories. _Throwing aside old clothes my fingertips brush the frosty neck of a glass bottle. _But it was all an illusion, I lost before I even fired my first shot. _

— — —

The knock on my bedroom door seems to thunder through the otherwise silent room. I sit up, instantly roused from the whisky filled haze that's held me for the last few hours - though it feels like it could have been days. Swaying slightly as my body desperately tries to sort vertical from horizontal I check the time. _Hmmm. _Not as late as I thought.

There's another, more tentative knock and I sigh. _That will be Ikuno, probably checking to see if I decided to sleep over with Hisao. _Thoughts of rolling back into bed rattle around in my head, the cold air feels like sandpaper on my bare legs - apparently I took my soaked jeans off at some point, but I don't remember and there is a dull ache in my stump - I'm disturbingly happy to be able to trace the pain to my physical flesh, rather than the ghost who inhabits it.

Getting to my feet I'm hit by a sudden dizzy spell, and my foot hovers dangerously above the pile of broken glass, before I manage to shift my weight and amble zombie-like to the door. _Letting her see me this is probably a bad idea, but… I don't want to be alone. _Feeling unnaturally cold the door handle turns easily.

The dim lights in the corridors can hardly be described as intense, however they are a hell of a lot brighter than my bedroom. I barely register the outline of a person walking away down the corridor, before I instinctively slap my hand over my eyes. _Gah, it's like starting the hangover early. _

"Miki?"

The voice is shocking on two counts. Firstly, because I had been expecting Ikuno's. And secondly, because Hisao was the last person I was expecting. _Yet here he is. _Vision still blurry I force myself to look out into the corridor, were my boyfriend - or possibly ex-boyfriend - is watching me intently, a folded bundle in his arms.

"I was just returning your coat and…" He pauses, "What on earth happened to you?" He finishes in clear bewilderment.

_I don't look that bad do I? _Had I know he was coming, been a little more sober and not smashed my own mirror, I would have checked.

"I…" _What do I say? _

"Your arm? It's bleeding." He says taking a step closer.

I check the dark skin on my right arm in some alarm, before realising he meant my stump. _Ok, perhaps this isn't the best state of mind to be discussing important things. _

"Ah, yeah, had an accident with the mirror." I shrug, "It's no big deal."

"It looks like a big deal from here." He replies sternly. "Can I come in?"

_Are you an idiot, of course he can't. _

Ignoring my sense of self-preservation I take a step back, inviting him into the room.

"Be careful of the glass," I warn, before letting myself fall back onto the bed. _I can't fall down and look like even more of an idiot if I'm sitting. _

Hisao wrinkles his nose as he enters the room. _This place must stink. _A combination of wet clothes, sweat and whiskey hang in the air. Again I'm hit with the frustration of not knowing he was going to pay me a visit. _I could have at least opened the window. _

"What the hell happened in here?" He asks, his voice a mixture of wonder and concern.

I shrug, unsure exactly how to answer that question.

"Is that alcohol?" He points at the bottle sitting on my bedside table. "Were you drinking?"

"It's not a big deal. I say again, pinching the bridge of my nose.

"Miki, what the fuck?" It's the first time I've heard him swear, and the word sounds all the dirtier for it. "I don't understand, is this all to do with whatever secret your keeping?"

I nod slowly, realising that it's stupid - not to mention insulting - to keep insisting that nothing is wrong. _He deserves better. _

"Look, whatever it is-"

"I killed somebody," I say in barely a whisper, cutting him off mid sentence.

_I'm glad he was here when the end came. _No one would be happy about condemning themselves - even if it was justly deserved - but being able to confess to someone I love, well I would take that any day of the week.

"What?" he takes a stunned step back, fragments of the broken mirror crunching under his shoe.

I look into his stunned eyes, a sudden wave of dizzy euphoria spreading over me. There's nothing left to lose now, nothing to fight for - it's strangely liberating.

"In the car crash where I lost my hand, somebody died, and it was my fault." I say simply.

"Did you mean to kill them?"

"No, of course not!" I protest, tapping into a previously undiscovered well of difference. _Whatever else he thinks of me, I won't let him say I'm a cold blooded murderer. _

_My crime is manslaughter, not exactly a badge of honour, but a whole lot better than murder. _

"Okay."

To my surprise he sits down beside me on the edge of the bed. _What the hell? _He tentatively takes my stump in his hands, holding it up to the flood of soft light from the hallway, it feels strange but I'm too stunned to protest.

"I think you need to see the nurse, this cut is pretty deep." He says softly, a frown crossing his perfect face.

The feeling of euphoria fades in a moment. _This isn't how this was supposed to go. _Uncontrollable tears roll down my cheeks. He was supposed to look at me with disgust and walk away, freeing me to phone the police and hand myself in, but now… _I don't understand. _

"Why are you still here?" I ask, wiping my eyes on the back of my hand.

He looks at me for a long moment, before shaking his head slowly, the smallest of smiles touching at his lips.

"Because I love you."


	36. The final call

"I love you too," I say, my voice barely a whisper.

Hours before we had fought, argued about one of us keeping secrets from the other. _No bonus points for guessing who the liar - by admission admittedly - was. _I had imagined that catastrophe of miscommunication was the end for us, but in defiance of all sane reasoning Hisao not only came back, but didn't leave after I confessed my crimes to him. _It really makes no sense. _No one should tell you they love you, after you admit to accidentally killing someone.

"Do you want to talk about it?" He asks softly, "The accident I mean?"

_Not really, speaking about it does not make it easier. But if anyone deserves the unabridged story, Hisao does._

"Could you close the door?" I reply after a moment of fruitless consideration.

With the smallest of nods Hisao climbs out of bed. His hair still glistens softly from his journey through the rain. Scooting back against the wall I make myself comfortable, while my boyfriend flicks on the lamp residing on my desk and closes the door with a gentle click.

He sits quietly while I consider where I can possibly begin to explain this mess. Picking at the bandages around my stump I recall my first turbulent year of high school. _Context is important, he needs to understand how what happened to me connects to the rest of my life. _To most people, I imagine, having a hand violently ripped off would be the worst part of their year. But that had been a short - admittedly very painful - shock when compared to the battery of abuse I suffered at the hands of my classmates. Everyday had been the same endless stream of snide comments and giggles poorly hidden behind interlaced fingers.

Even now, after everything that has happened, it's hard to talk about what that first week was like, what I took for me to roll out of bed each morning. _I pride myself on being tough, for being able to endure where others back out. _But that year broke me, left me feeling weak and pathetic, constantly at the mercy of people who seemed to have so much more than me to begin with. _That's why I've never wanted to talk about it. _The things that happened with my parents, they feel like stuff that happened to me, while the bullying... That was something I let happen to myself.

"That's horrible," his response is not apologetic, but scathing. _Anger on my behalf I can deal with. _"Why did they treat you like that?" His question is more rhetorical than accusatory. 

Shrugging I watch the rain conjoin and divide as it slides down my misted window. The storm is fatiguing, but still has some fight left in it. "I was just different from them I guess, I was poor for one thing and, like, the only black girl there."

_My skin colour is another subject I hardly touch. _Though, not for the same reasons. It just seems such a non-issue, the only people who notice are hypocrites who preach the purity of the Japanese race while simultaneously enjoying the benefits of a dozen cultures distinctly un-Japanese in origin. It's yet another in the long list of things that make Yamaku magical. There is no standard for anything here, everyone is different, which in a very real way makes everyone the same.

"I can't believe anyone would taunt you for things you can't control."

"Can't you?" I say, raising an eyebrow.

He pauses for a moment, before letting out a slow breath, "I just hate it, how someone could treat you like that."

"Such is life," I reply with a shrug. "As my grandfather used to say."

I continue with my story, explaining about Tatsuo and his monstrous pick up truck.

"Did you know him well?" Hisao asks when I tell him about being picked out of the crowd.

"No, that was the first time we had ever spoken."

"And you just got into a near stranger's truck?" He replies incredulously.

"He was like, the coolest guy in the entire neighbourhood. You have no idea what it was like for him to even notice you." I say, cursing how defensive I sound. "Look, all I wanted back then was to be popular. It's stupid, it was stupid - but, yeah… I got in his truck."

Hisao nods slowly. _I don't know if I'm trying to justify my actions to him, or myself. _

"I'm sorry, it just seemed strange," he says. "Please continue."

_Well, here goes nothing. _I tell him as much as I can remember. Watching his face turn from shock at the armed men chasing Tatsuo into his truck. To horror as I recall how I woke up next to the scared boy's lifeless corpse. _I don't really know if that part of the story actually happened. _The countless times that scene popped up in my dreams it was always accompanied by something fantastical - something that could only ever happen in a dream.

_Like it even matters. _

The important fact. _The fact that I was driving. _Is clear without question, so I might have stayed blacked out until I got to hospital, or I may well have awoken to a trail of blood dripping from an ear framed by a silver buzz cut. But it does not matter in the slightest.

"That must have been awful," my boyfriend says consolingly, "but it sounds like an accident to me. Like you said, you never meant to hurt him."

"No, but I still did. I did far worse than hurt him, I killed him."

"Well the police must not have felt that way? Otherwise you wouldn't still be here right?"

_Ah. _It feels like my stomach lining has been replaced with icy lead. _It all makes sense now. _Obviously Hisao hasn't recoiled in disgust - yet - because he's only heard half of the story. The key details, the context to my horror, is lost on him. 

"I…" Stopping before my sentence has even begun I take a deep breathe, rubbing my sweaty palm on the pillow. _I don't think I can do this._ My throat is rebelling against speaking the truth that will drive Hisao away from me. _If you love him, you will tell him._

"I lied to the police," I say, tasting bile in my mouth. I stare hard at my knee, looking anywhere but at him. "There was confusion about who was driving, I couldn't remember for the longest time, and when I did I lied in my official statement to the police. I told them Tatsuo had been the one driving."

I'm not surprised when Hisao does not reply, throwing the room into a crushing silence. Only the noise of the wind outside intrudes on the oppressive nothingness. I half expect him to hit me. _Hell, I would hit me. _But he doesn't, and together we sit side by side separated by a chasm of uncertainty.

"You... You lied? To the police?"

I nod miserably. _Now he get it, now he understands. _

"I want to tell the truth," I say softly. "I'm going to, it's just… I haven't had the courage to."

"You're going to hand yourself in?" He sounds genuinely surprised.

"I have to, it's why I can't come to university." I look up, startled by his response. The look on his face matches the one he wore when inspecting my injured stump; worried.

Massaging his eyes with his palms he continues, "But surely, it will be worse now than if you had just admitted it when you remember, right?"

"Probably," I say.

"Then, I don't understand."

_What? _

"You don't think I should be punished for what I've done?" I ask incredulously.

"I don't know, maybe?" He pauses, rubbing the back of neck. "Some people are never punished for their crimes, but you lost your hand. That's punishment enough isn't it?"

"How can you say that?"

_I'm supposed to be weeping as the last of whatever love Hisao felt for me fades from his radiant eyes. Instead I'm actually having to defend my decision to do the right thing. Nothing ever, ever goes the way I expect it to. _

"Because I don't want to lose you," he says quickly. "Isn't there some other way?"

"There isn't." I sigh sadly. "I'm not doing this for Tatsuo, or even his family. I need to do this for me. I don't want to lose you either, I love you. But, I can't live like this either."

"What do you think will happen?" He asks, his voice quiet now.

"I get arrested I guess, then a trial, then prison." I'm surprised by how matter of fact I sound, listing off each horrible event that lies in my immediate future. _The road behind me stretches back for miles, a confused mass of twists and turns, forks and junctions. But the road ahead is clear, if not ominous. Every path leads straight to a nightmarish concrete cell, now clearer than it has ever been before. _

"But wait," Hisao says suddenly, a new light in his eyes. "You said it took you a year to remember this stuff? How do you even know it's what really happened? What if this is some kind of survivor's guilt?"

"I just know." I shrug.

"That's not very scientific." He frowns. "Do you have any evidence?"

"I'm telling you about the worst thing that's ever happened to me, the worst thing I have ever done to another person, and you are asking for evidence?" Despite everything I'm starting to feel a little disgruntled. It's true I don't have any real evidence that I was behind the wheel - not even the police have that - but I know, every single molecule in my being knows. _That should be what matters. _

"You are talking about destroying the rest of your life over something you remembered a year after a traumatic head injury. You won't be able to go to university or get a good job." He pauses, before continuing sadly, "We won't be able to see each other."

_What if he's right? _No, I can't think like that. If I can't trust my own memories what do I really have left? In fact if he were correct and my recollection of events were tainted by some kind of survivor'sguilt, it would be so much worse. _How could I trust anything? _What if everything I remembered about my past were simply false images, produced by a insecure and guilt ridden mind?

"Look, I don't know what's going to happen. All I know is what I need to do." I sigh slowly, "I understand if you want to walk away."

"I don't think I can, unless you want me to?"

"No… I don't want that," I mumble.

_I should. _I should want him to move on with his life, find someone who isn't about to drag him into a world of police and carnage. But I can't. I need him by my side, for better or worse. Slowly I lean my head against his arm, he seems surprised for a moment, but recovers himself and plants a soft kiss on the top of my head.

The warm glow of the whisky is now just a faded memory, leaving behind it a dry throat and a throbbing sting in my cut stump. _Blah, it's too late too see the nurse. _Yawning into a cupped hand I close my eyes, just enjoying the feeling of Hisao beside me. _I may not get many more moments like this._

"You should try and get some sleep," Hisao says unexpectedly.

"I'm not all that tired," I say, though with the adrenaline from our conversation fading I do feel a bit drossy.

Without a word Hisao pulls the covers over my exposed legs, before wrapping his arm around me. _He's still here. _The thought wraps around me like a warm blanket. _Perhaps there's a chance for us… _I find myself yawning again. _After all. _

— — —

I groggily wake up. It feels like hours have passed, but at the same time as if I had not slept at all. _At least I didn't have any nightmares. _The illuminated red figures on my beside table tell me it's just gone five in the morning. The room seems brighter than normal, and it takes my still half asleep brain a few seconds to realise Hisao is at my desk, hunched over something with the lamp on.

_Huh, he didn't leave? _

There's a sharp sting in my stump as I use it to push myself into a sitting position, I had forgotten about punching the mirror. Blinking I rub the sleep from my eyes. _What the hell has he done to my room? _The pile of broken glass has been cleared away, as has the overflowing waste paper basket that sits beside my desk. Even the graveyard of dead and crumpled clothes has been tidied, freeing up more floor space than I can remember seeing in the last two years.

"Hisao?" I call softly, curling my legs up to my chest and pulling the lavishly warm covers tighter around me.

With a startled lurch he swivels around in my desk chair. "Hey, you're awake."

"W… What happened?" I ask, an unexpected yawn causing my voice to shake.

"I tidied up a bit, honestly Miki, you are messiest person I know." His joints creak audibly in a crescendo as he rises, culminating with a loud crack as he stretches his arms above his head.

"You sound decidedly unhealthy," I observe with a worried frown. _I should have made sure he was comfortable before selfishly falling asleep._

"It's just testament to how much effort cleaning your room required," he grins sitting down beside me with a creek, though this time the bed is the culprit.

His face is thrown into sharp relief by the lamp, a complex pattern of shadows and pale skin. Reaching out tentatively I run my thumb across the rough slightly greasy skin above his cheeks, turning his head away, perhaps in protest, reveals just how dark the bags under his eyes really are. _Oh Hisao… _

"Have you slept at all?" I ask, unable to keep the dread from my voice.

"I'm fine," He says, taking my hand in his. "How's your arm?"

_Stupid distraction, stop distracting me. _

"It hurts," I admit, "but it's fine, honestly. You should get into bed."

Using my stump I move the covers aside, letting in a huff of horribly cold air but giving my boyfriend a good view at least. _Even if the prospect of sleep isn't exciting, I should be right?_

"After you go and see the nurse." He says sternly, dropping my hand to reach for my bloodied stump.

"But it's very cold outside, and very warm in here." I protest, allowing him to look at my arm from various angles. Though what he intends to deduce from the action is anyone's guess.

I feel strangely alive and carefree this morning. It's like a huge weight has been lifted from my shoulders, and for the first time in a long while I'm able to breathe freely again. Of course a more apt metaphor would be the weight now dangling high above my head, ready to crush me at a moment's notice. Disquieted by my own thought process I push the image to the back of my mind, refocusing on my boyfriend's face.

"I don't want to sleep until I know you're safe." he repeats stubbornly.

"Fine, fine," I groan, "I will go to the Nurse's office, if you promise to get a sick note and spend the day sleeping."

"Can't promise to sleep all day, I have homework." He smirks, primitively celebrating his victory.

"You at least try and go to sleep," I reply, "and I get a kiss before we leave, that's my final offer."

"Deal."

As one we both reach for each other, our lips meeting somewhere in the middle.

_I'm sure the nurse can wait, logic dictates I should enjoy every kiss while I can. And I've never been anything other than logical._

— — —

"And what, exactly were you doing when the accident occurred Miss Miura?" The nurse asks, as his delicate fingers slowly unwrap my still damp bandages.

I glance towards the doorway, wondering if Hisao is okay out by himself in the corridor. _I'm not sure why he wasn't allowed in, after all, I was permitted to sit with him after his heart flutter on the track. _Ah well, he didn't seem too perturbed by the arrangements, and at least the nurse let us in from the cold.

"Falling," I say with a smirk, still riding high on my strange life-affirming euphoria.

"Ah, well I'm glad to see that your sense of humour has not been adversely affected." He replies, throwing me a warm smile.

With a final flourish the last of the bloody bandages fall away, revealing a sizeable wound, cutting neatly between the curves of the S shaped scar that already decimates the end of my stump. Absent mindedly I prod at where the two injuries intersect, marvelling at the strange numb feeling there. _Ironic, that the body part that gives me the most pain is completely numb to the touch. _

"The first rule when dealing with injuries Miss Miura, is that under no circumstances should you poke them and see what happens."

"Even if you can't feel it?" I ask with a grin.

"Especially if you can't feel it." He says, his voice muffled as he rummages around for supplies in one of the numerous cupboards scattered around the room. "I must say," he reappears in front of me, a section of white bandages overflowing his crossed arms. "I had not quite expected to see you up this early. You are not one of my normal nocturnal clientele."

I think without a doubt that the nurse is my favourite member of staff at Yamaku, even if most of the time I only see him when I'm in pain. He's one of the few people on campus that I can lower my guard around, not completely of course, not in the same way I can around Hisao. _Though, to be fair I didn't know I could - or would - do that until it more or less happened. _

I draw a sharp breath as the nurse cleans out my cut with a mixture that manages to be foul-smelling, freezing cold and which stings like a horde of angry bees, all at once. "Ow, I was awake anyway," taking a moment to bite my lip in pain, before continuing, "and my arm hurt, so…"

"No need to explain. You were injured, I'm the nurse. It's quite a simple yet efficient working relationship." His smile, which he seems to wear in the same way most people wear jewellery, falters. "Forgive me Miss Miura, but I have to ask. Was this injury completely accidental?"

"You think I hurt myself on purpose?" I ask, feigning surprise. _I know he knows more about the student body than is reasonable to expect, but he can't actually read minds. _Can he?

"It's been known to happen, and I'm afraid your sessions with Dr. Ueda mean that you are considered at risk." His normal cheerfulness has vanished like a deflated balloon, and it's clear he isn't happy about having to ask questions like this. _I suppose for someone who dedicates practically his entire life to keeping the students of this school happy and healthy the prospect of one of them harming themselves must be crushing. _

"Could I see Dr Ueda?" I ask, purposely not answering the question. _I don't really want to lie to him - then again I'm not all that keen on the truth either. _

"Of course, he should be in shortly." Relief floods onto the nurses face, he must think I'm going to open up about my arm to the psychotherapist. _A more comforting thought than the truth, and one I'm in no rush to rid him of._

"Thanks," I say softly as he starts to wrap my arm in bandages. Since being more intimate with Hisao I've felt more and more comfortable having my stump uncovered - not that I want to go waving it about - but I think that if Ryouta or Ikuno ever asked to see, well, I think I could show them. _I suppose at least I'm making progress with some parts of my chaotic life. _

We fall into relaxed conversation, and once my arm is fully covered Hisao is invited back into the room. If the nurse has any questions regarding what Hisao was doing with me at this time in the morning he doesn't air them, though I suspect he has a network of spies that will feed him all the relevant gossip. As if to back up this theory he doesn't seem at all surprised when we mention visiting each other's parents over the summer holidays.

Dr Ueda arrives as the clock strikes six thirty, the nurse excuses himself to speak with the good doctor, leaving Hisao and me alone.

"Miki, are you sure you want to do this?" Hisao asks, a note of desperation in his voice.

I nod slowly, "I have to."

"I just," he pauses, "I just thought sleeping on it might change your mind."

"I've been sleeping on it for nearly a year, I've made up my mind," I sigh softly, taking his warm hand into mine, "I'm sorry."

We sit in silence after that, unable to meet each other's gaze. A million little doubts vie for attention in my head, but I push them back down, trying to focus on the exact wording of my confession. _I can't think of any way to say it which doesn't sound like an awful soap opera. _

"Miss Miura," the nurse announces, making me jump. "The doctor will see you now."

I look at Hisao. _This is your last chance to back out. _He exhales slowly, and I think he's going to get up and leave. But instead he holds his hand out for mine, helping me down from the paper covered bed. As politely as I can I thank the nurse, who now seems to have noticed the distinct change in the atmosphere.

Dr Ueda's office is only a little further down the corridor, but with each step it feels like more and more weight is being added to my shoes. Without Hisao beside me I would have never been able to do this. The door opens easily and without a sound. The room beyond with it's familiar mixed bag of furniture is dimly illuminated by lamps scattered like beacons among the bookshelves and on the desk.

Hanging his hat on the stand behind his desk the white-bearded therapist turns, opening his mouth for a greeting, a look of genuine surprise on his face when he sees Hisao. However I cut him off before he can say anything, and before I lose my nerve.

"I lied." the words leave my mouth before I have a chance to stop them. _Damn it! _That wasn't what I had intended to say.

"Excuse me?" he looks bewildered, one hand still on his bowler hat.

"I lied," I repeat.

"About what in particular Miss Miura?"

Glancing one last time at Hisao, who inclines his head by a fraction of an inch, I continue. "Everything."

_I lied about everything. _


	37. The Interview

"It's time." Dr. Ueda groans resignedly, placing the telephone back onto its stand with an ominous click.

"Okay..." I reply, overcome by an odd sensation of serenity. _This is the right thing to do._ I tell myself, hardly noticing Hisao entwine his warm fingers with mine.

It feels like I've been trapped in this room for an age. Sitting beside the comforting presence of my boyfriend I've endured the long eons the sun has required to peek above the horizon. I've waited, desperate for the moment something, anything might happen. It's a strange contrast to the panicked rush in which I made my confession, assaulted almost immediately by more questions than one overtaxed sleepy mind could handle. But that was an hour ago, now silence rules supreme. Only the sun's warm autumnal light, seeping into the office like golden honey gives any indication that time has moved.

"The police are waiting for you by the front gate," my therapist explains gruffly, his normally reserved voice failing him, "I thought that may be a more desirable, that is to say, less embarrassing arrangement."

"Thank you," I say, my voice quivering. He should hate me. _Everyone should hate me._ But he has more right than most to hold a grudge, he vouched for me - In front of the police no less - while I lied in my statement. _He should hate me._ But instead he has listened patiently as he always has, helping in his own small, but deeply meaningful way.

"I'll walk with you." Hisao says, getting to his feet.

"No!" My response is so sudden he flinches, "No, Hisao, I need to do this by myself."

He looks flabbergasted as he helps me to stand. "But, why?"

"Remember our first kiss?" I ask softly.

My boyfriend glances towards the therapist, who ducks behind a random file from his 'Out' tray. _I half expect him to start humming. _"Of course." He says slowly, turning his curious ember eyes back to mine.

"That's how I want you to remember me, not-" I take a deep breathe, "Not in the back of a police car."

"Miss Miura, far be it for me to interject," Dr Ueda interjects, "but I do believe the police only wish to interview you, I wouldn't imagine any overly dramatic arrest is about to take place."

"See?" I say to Hisao quickly, "It won't even be that exciting. Go to bed, please, for me?"

I turn to the doctor before my boyfriend can object further. "Can you write him a sick note? He hasn't slept since yesterday."

It's a horribly unfair thing to do, I know that. Hisao is more than capable of deciding how sleepy he is, taking the choice away from him isn't a compassionate act. It's selfishness. Because knowing my boyfriend is safely catching up his sleep really will give me one less thing to worry about in the coming hours.

"Of course Miss Miura." He turns to Hisao as he pulls a stack of blank forms towards him. "She's right, you know, you'll be no good to anybody if you are exhausted."

Battened down by my worried gaze and his obvious desire to be around for me later Hisao relents, albeit grudgingly. 

"Are you sure?" He asks with a frown, a look of great trepidation touching his bloodshot eyes. _Hell, even I'm not certain I want to do this alone. _But I know seeing him disappear while I'm whisked away to goodness knows where... Well, that might just break me. _No, I need to do this alone. _

"Completely." I reply, as clearly as I can, though my voice feels gruff. "I will see you later? Okay."

I begin to move to the door before he has a chance to answer. _The old Miki backup plan - run, run until my lungs burn and the world is a blur. _

"Miki." Hisao calls out, just as my fingertips find the cool brass door handle.

Pausing, as if frozen in time, I turn to face him. "Y… Yes?" _Damn it! Control yourself. _

"I love you," His face burns with embarrassment, behind him the white bearded doctor averts his gaze.

"I love you too," I reply simply, feeling my own cheeks burn, "And thank you Dr. Ueda, for everything."

He looks at me for a long moment, before bowing deeply, "Good luck, Miss Miura."

Without giving myself the chance to hesitate I push out of the door, leaving the man I trust and the boy I love behind as I walk - nearly run - towards my doom.

_I don't know what's going to happen next - all I know is that I've chosen to face it alone. _

— — —

Stumbling, I'm barely able to catch myself, narrowly avoiding a face first fall into the leaf-strewn path. I can't decide if I want to stroll slowly and enjoy Yamaku before whatever happens at the police station happens or if I should sprint and get this over with as soon as possible. _I could always turn back, make a run for it. _With difficulty I suppress that urge. It's not like the police don't know where to find me anyway.

Fortunately it's still early enough for the gossiping student body to be safely disposed stepping bleary eyed into morning showers. I hope that Ikuno simply assumes I slept over with Hisao. _I should have told her. _An image of my best friend springs unbidden into my mind's eye, a distant but distinct memory from our one and only fight. I hope she doesn't react the same way she did then, when I tell her why I wasn't in class today.

_Then again what's to say she won't just walk away? _It's what I expected Hisao to do after all. Will I really lose her just like that? Before I would have said it was a certainty, but after last night I'm not convinced I can really be sure of anything anymore. _Somehow not knowing is worse. _Uncertainty plays on your mind in much crueler ways than dread.

Uselessly I try and chase the thoughts flying around my head into some kind of order. Failing miserably until I reach the front gates, where two cars are visible beyond the towers of interlocking iron. The first is an un-extraordinary black solon, but behind it sits a police cruiser. _Bloody hell, who are they expecting to meet out here? _

Gathered around the cars are a number of men, divided unevenly into a police uniform and a couple neat suits. _If Ryouta's cop movies are anything to go by, I guess the suited guys must be detectives. _Pausing for one final moment by the school gate I swallow a shallow breath, before taking a few tentative steps forward. At first they don't seem to notice me, then one of the suits looks up, and their conversation ends abruptly.

"Miss Miura I presume?" The detective who calls out to me looks about as dishevelled as I feel. He stands with his thumbs hooked into his trouser pockets, a lit cigarette between his lips. And judging by the stubble shading his chin he's missed more than one appointment with his razor recently.

"Umm," I pause. _What? Am I going to lie? 'Me? No, you want the other one handed girl.' _"Yeah, that's me - I mean, I'm her."

"I'm detective Harada," He bows respectfully, crushing the cigarette underfoot, "We would like to discuss your, ah, change of heart, if you will accompany us?"

I nod slowly, thankful that I'm not being asked for anything more than affirmation yet. The uniformed police officer withdraws his handcuffs as I draw nearer, and instinctively I hold out my mismatched arms.

"Officer Takagi, what precisely do you think you're doing?" Detective Harada's voice causes both me and the baby faced officer to look up.

I've never had much of a need to understand the hierarchy of our nation's police, but from the low bow the officer directs towards the detective it's clear who runs the show. "With respect sir, I was going to handcuff the suspect."

"New to the force are you?" Harada replies, not unkindly.

"Yes sir," he bows again. "I graduated a few months ago."

"Ah, well then you probably don't have your policemen's intuition yet, but not to worry, you can borrow mine."

"Sir?" The office replies somewhat in a daze.

"My intuition is rarely wrong Takagi, and at the moment it's telling me that given the suspect not only reported herself, but walked up to us voluntarily she is unlikely to need handcuffing, nor does she have the right, ah, anatomy for handcuffs." Harada looks at me apologetically as he finishes his sentence.

My alarmed brain takes a few seconds to catch up with what he just said. I guess the prospect of being restrained was so shocking I forgot about my absent hand. _Damn it, I can't even be arrested like a normal person. _

"Now," the detective continues, frowning at his dumfounded colleague, "do you think you can get her into the car? It's the big square thing with the round wheels." His voice is edged with exasperation, and I notice he shakes his head slowly as the officer firmly grabs my arm, pulling me towards the cruiser.

I'm almost relieved as I'm shoved unceremoniously into the back seat, the young policeman apparently transferring the pain of his embarrassment onto me. I'm half tempted to ask if he knows how to start the engine as he climbs into the front seat. Then I remember why I'm in the back seat of a cop car to begin with, and the sarcasm suddenly seems a lot less funny.

In fact everything starts to feel a lot less amusing as the adrenaline seeps out of my body, replaced by a cold prickly feeling in my stomach. The scolded officer remains silent as we slide like a shadow down the hill, picking up the route normally taken by the bus to reach the city.

The aftermath of last night's storm contrasts strangely with the unseasonably bright morning. It's like autumn used all of its energy striping leafs from the trees - and in some cases trees from the ground - and has now left, letting summer slip back for one last hurrah. Despite the destruction of the evening before, the highway into the city is relatively clear, and soon we are hurtling past the outskirts.

Our pace slows as the buildings grow more dense. With my head pressed against the cool glass, I try and reconcile how I feel, with how cheerful the world seems to be. I've felt like this before, when I was rushing to my father's potential death bed. _This is a moment that will define part of my life… why hasn't the universe noticed? _

— — —

_Why the hell did I agree to this? _The interview room is hazy with a thick smog from the detective's chain smoked cigarettes, he sits across from me with an intense look on his face the top button of his shirt popped open in the uncomfortably hot windowless room. With a sweaty palm I push the sheet of paper holding my written confession towards him.

He takes it with hardly a glance, before sitting up a little straighter in his chair. Reaching to the floor beside him he withdraws a dogeared vanilla file, placing it carefully on the table between us. "Tell me Miss Miura, can you read?"

I nod quickly, frowning at his odd question.

"Good, then can you tell me what this says?" He points to two red stamped words on the file.

"Case closed," I read grudgingly, trying to hide my new found resentment for my scruffy interviewer.

"Exactly," he says, extinguishing one cigarette in the ashtray, before immediately lighting another. "Now, look, I know you might well be feeling… ah, guilty. Because you survived where someone else did not. That's all perfectly natural, and sometimes when people are stressed, or guilty they confess to things that are not really true."

I glare at him, as what he is saying hits me.

"Are you one of these people Miss Miura? It's okay to be mistaken, the case has not yet been reopened. So, why don't you pop back to school and, ah, book a few more sessions with that therapist of yours?"

Unbelievable, this all completely unbelievable. How can he say something like that? Isn't he supposed to be trying to establish the truth? What was all that policeman's intrusion stuff from before - or was that just his way of bullying someone, disguised as being nice to me?

"I am not," I say slowly and clearly, "mistaken." I almost snarl the last word. _And there I was thinking I would be afraid. _No, all I feel at the moment is pissed off. I didn't think getting people to believe me would be a problem.

Pinching the bridge of his nose the detective lets out a long sigh, "Very well." Reaching to the end of the table he hits a button on an archaic wood panelled voice recorder, I was under the impression that it had been running since I sat down. _Then again, I suppose if you're going to try and persuade your suspects to go home, you might not want evidence of that hanging around. _

Seeming to purposely ignore me Harada lists off the date of the interview and my name in a clear loud voice. Only then does he seem to take an interest in my written confession. Holding his cigarette between his lips he withdraws another sheet of paper from within my file, laying the sheets side by side and seeming to compare them.

"Miss Miura, by submitting this updated statement you are confessing to falsifying your first. Do you understand that this, ah, perjury, is a serious crime?" he asks, his inquisitive eyes not leaving my face.

_Obviously._

"Yes, I understand." I reply slowly, fanning myself with my hand. I don't know if it's the smoke, the heart or the company but this room is starting to feel unbearably stuffy.

He shows no reaction to my answer, continuing to read as if he had not heard anything. "Right, I suppose it's best if we start at the be-" His sentence is cut short as someone knocks on the door, causing both me and my interrogator to jump. Raising a curious eyebrow and smiling at me Harada stands up, the gesture catches me off guard. _He's being nice to me now? _Or is the ability to switch between ally and adversary simply a method of extracting information.

The hinges creak as the door is opened, letting in a blessed waft of cool air. Unfortunately the detective opens the door only far enough so that he can speak quietly to whoever is on the other-side, obscuring my view in the process. I pick at my bandages, the heat irritating the skin as I wait for the questioning to begin anew. _I suppose it's stupid to wonder if our visitor is here to deliver cool drinks._

I catch small snatches of the quiet conversation, but nothing coherent. Eventually Harada signs, turning back into the room and closing the door with his ankle. His expression is hard to read as he walks back to the table, turning off the voice recorder with a clunk. "It would appear," he says, sitting down heavily, "That your, ah, lawyer would like to be here for the proceedings."

"I see," I say softly. _How could granddad have found out I am here? _

"I'm afraid you have a good few hours wait ahead of you," he seems genuinely sympathetic as he returns the paperwork to my file and stands up. "Come on, we have a waiting room."

Still mystified by the detective's true feelings I get to my feet, eagerly following my interrogator out of the room. The air in the corridor is mercifully cool, and I suck down great lungfuls as if it were the last oxygen on earth. In silence we stroll side by side, until arriving in the waiting area, which seems about as run-down as the rest of the station. The once cream walls are stained a putrid smoker's yellow, and not one of the padded chairs is without a hole or gash.

"May I use my phone?" I ask quickly as my escort turns to leave, apparently satisfied that I can work out the features of the dingy room by myself.

"You are not under arrest, ah, yet." He cringes a little before continuing, "So yes, you are free to use your phone."

I nod quickly, "Thanks."

With a shrug he continues on his way, while I find the seat with the best ratio of comfort to cleanliness. Settling down into the extremely soft, and disturbingly sticky leather I pull out my phone, holding down the power button until it vibrates, dinging back to life in my hand. Almost immediately the handset goes crazy, message tones playing one after the other in a polyphonic cacophony.

[From Ikuno] 'Hey where are you?'

[From Ikuno] 'Why's your phone off, are you okay?"

_Why would you text someone to ask why their phone is off? _

[From Hisao] 'Going to bed as promised, see you later. I love you."

I smile softly, writing a quick reply to Hisao.

[To Hisao] 'Sleep well, I love you too. Thank you for still being there for me. 3'

Next I turn my attention to my best friend.

[To Ikuno] 'Hey, I'm okay. I'm at the police station, it's a long and very complicated story - I'll explain everything when I get back, I'm sorry.'

With a sigh I flick my phone closed, holding the slightly warm plastic to my lips. For the second time today I'm facing an uncomfortable wait, and this time I only have out of date magazines to keep me company. _Joy. _

—

I sigh, closing 'Ten top tips to better skin this winter' - judging by the date on the front cover of the magazine the advice is at least three winters out of date, not that it was particularly enthralling to begin with. _Don't check the time, don't check the time. _I tell myself, yet I can't help but let my eyes slide to the clock above the doorway.

_Damn it. _

It's about lunch time now. I'm bored, I'm hungry, and if my grandfather does not show up soon I might just scream. This is my fault really, I had this delusional notion that confessing would be like an action movie, that I would reveal everything and be in front of a judge by this afternoon. In reality the wheels of justice turn slowly, very, very slowly.

I reach to pick up one of the magazines with scantily clad women and fancy cars - if for nothing other than a change of pace - when the shuffle of shoes grabs my attention. My grandfather has not changed in the slightest since I last saw him, same mane of hair, same aged muscle barely contained by white shirt.

"Miki." he says breathlessly, stepping past his uniformed escort with the smallest of nods. "What in all that is sacred were you thinking?"

"Errm… Hi." I say. Truth be told I'm not entirely sure I want him here, but I'm smart enough to know a lawyer is probably an advantage.

"Yes, hello." He says hurriedly, "You confessed? Why would you do such a thing?"

"Because," _How the hell do I answer this? _"Because it was the right thing to do," I reply stubbornly. _I shouldn't have to convince people telling the truth is a good thing… should I?_

"But you told me you couldn't remember anything! Miki, do you not understand how serious this is? You cou-"

"Yes," I interrupt with a growl, my annoyance getting the better of me. "I understand completely. Why do you think it took me a year to build up the courage to confess?" _I'm getting sick of this. _Why does everyone suddenly want to talk to me like I'm some silly little girl who's too stupid to realise what she's done? Everyone I've spoken to has either tried to dissuade me, or else infantilize me. _I wish my dad were here. _He's the only person in the entire world who could understand why I need to do this.

"And what have you told them?"

"Everything." I say, fixing my gaze on the magazine strewn table.

"What does 'everything' entail?"

"I explained that I was driving when we crashed, that I…" I falter, "It was me, Tatsuo, he's… because of me."

A wave of fresh panic settles on my grandfather's face, and he leans back into the chair pushing his fingertips into his temples. Despite myself I sniff, I never wanted him hurt in all of this. _I feel like I've pulled the plug on my personal sinking ship, vindicated I've returned to the deck… only to find everyone I love is about to be dragged down with me. _If this is the right thing to do why does it feel like such a horrible mistake?

I'm shaken out of my revery by the feeling of my grandfather's strong arm wrapping around my shoulders. He looks at me with a touch of sadness in his otherwise kind eyes. Instinctively I lean into his chest. _I wish I could tell him I never wanted any of this to happen… but the sentiment feels completely immaterial. _

"What are we going to do with you? Your grandmother always said your honesty would get you into trouble one of these days."

I nod slowly, unsure how else to respond. _I can't remember a time when I was honest, truly and completely. _I suppose when I was younger, when I didn't have things in my life that I wanted to keep to myself. But that was so long ago. Hot tears finally break free from my tired eyes and burn slender paths down my cheeks.

"She would have been proud of you Miki, and for what it's worth, I'm proud of you, too."

Unfortunately our all too brief moment is interrupted simultaneously by the reappearance of detective Harada and the blaring ring of my mobile. Springing apart I dig in my pocket while my grandfather jumps to his feet. I glance at him nervously as my thumb hovers over the call accept button.

"Take it," grandad says kindly, "I won't be far away I'm sure."

With a thankful nod I hit the green button, hesitating for a moment before I press the receiver to my ear. Ikuno's panicked voice erupts from the speaker as I watch Harada and my grandfather exchange pleasantries before stepping out of sight into the corridor.

"Miki? Miki are you there…?"

"Sorry, I'm here," I say quickly. "Bit distracted, how are you?"

"How am I? How are _you? _Your text said you were at a police station." Her words spill over each other as she speaks, the sounds of bustling student-packed hallways clearly audible in the background of her call.

"Yeah, it's a bit complicated. It's going to be okay though, I can explain later."

"I'm your best friend, you can tell me. Is someone hurt? Is Hisao hurt? Is it your dad again?" She seems to be on the verge of hysterics. _Perhaps I should be a little more careful about what I write in my texts. _

"No one's hurt, everyone's fine." I say, interrupting her manic tirade.

"Then what's going on? Why are you at a police station?"

"Well, like I said, it's complicated."

"Come on Miki, I'm worried about you. Whatever it is just tell me, please? I will understand - I promise."

_Fuck. _What the hell do I do? If I tell her then I risk losing my closest friend over the phone. On the other hand, If I don't tell her then there is every chance she might react like Hisao and get mad at me for keeping secrets, and then end up finding out from someone else anyway. _Damn it… I guess I don't have a choice. _

"You…" I start slowly, even though Ikuno will be the fourth person I have confessed to, saying the words is no easier. "Do you remember when I told you about how I lost my hand?"

"Yeah?" she replies softly.

"Well, I told you someone else had been driving, the boy who died in the accident."

"Yeah…?" There's a hint of uncertainty in her quiet voice.

"I…" _Come on, just say it. _"I lied."

"What do you mean?" She asks quickly before I can finish my sentence.

"I was the one driving the truck, I'm at the police station to confess."

"You killed somebody?" her accusatory tone makes me wince.

"I… It… Yes." I mumble.

Ikuno - Unsurprisingly - falls silent. I can't think of any combination of words to explain myself, to justify my past mistakes. 'I didn't mean to' and 'It was an accident' are what you say after you spill a drink. There are no equivalent statements - in any language - for when you take a life.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Her voice is hollow as she finally speaks.

"How could I? I didn't even fully remember myself until last year."

"You've known for a year? And you never told me."

"Ikuno how the fuck could I have told you? You would have hated me!"

Taking a deep steadying breath I try and reason with myself. I should have been expecting this reaction, I shouldn't have told her over the phone. Still, a small part of me can't help but feel irritated with her. _She must know I would never have been able to tell her? _She does understand that we're not talking about some secret party invite, but a truth so horrible it's going to rip my life apart. _She can understand that right? _

"You could have trusted me! What about all those nights I stayed up with you? Night after night, I thought that meant something?" Her voice is a harsh unwavering whisper, "And I nearly told you… I, just..." she pauses, and I can hear her sigh heavily into the mouthpiece. "I think it might be better if we stayed away from each other, I can't let my family get caught up in something like this."

"Iku-" I make to protest, but the line is already dead. Quickly I hit her speed dial, but barely make it through one tone before the line dies once again. _She rejected the call. _

_For fuck's sake! _

Since when has her family meant so much to her that they affect who she hangs around with? And anyway how does knowing me affect anything? _It's all bullshit. _It's just an excuse because - like Hisao - she considers not being privy to every detail of my life a personal affront. I push my palm against my mouth to muffle a frustrated scream. And how could she think I didn't appreciate her spending time with me after my bad dreams? _Even I don't know what would have happened to me if she hadn't. _

Perhaps I'm overreacting. I mean, the news must have come as a shock. _Plus it was delivered over a damn telephone. _But Hisao came back into my life after finding out I was keeping secrets from him. _And it's not like Ikuno and I haven't had fights before. _Though, never over something so serious. I will just have to talk to her after I'm done here - like I should have done in the first place.

With a plan in place - and trying very hard not to think of all the things that could go wrong with it - I get to my feet. I can't believe how tired I am. It's like I've run ten sprints on top of a week without sleep. My head is a chaos of confused thoughts. There's simply too much to think about: Ikuno, Ryouta, Hisao, Grandad, my parents - and that before I've even considered what's going to happen to me. _I wish I could curl up against my boyfriend's chest and never have to think again. _

— — —

Rather predictably the universe is in no mood to hear my silent pleas for mercy, and I find myself back in the smoke-filled interview room. _I'm going to stink of cigarettes when I get back to school. _That is, assuming I go back to school - I'm only guessing. One thing's for sure, if I do end up in a cell tonight how I smell will be the least of my problems.

My grandfather's bulk is like a hunched statue on the chair next to me as he reads through the statement I wrote earlier. _He doesn't look happy. _Then again it's a confession, how much more incriminating could it possibly get?

"Well," he says gloomily, looking up from my clumsy handwriting. "That would just about do it."

"Yes, it's, ah, well more descriptive than most confessions we get from people." The detective answers. "There are a number of questions I still wish to ask Miss Miura, if that is acceptable."

"Su-" I begin before being shushed by my grandfather.

"Miki, I advise you to remain silent, for now, please." There's plea in his voice. I nod once, though I don't think he notices as he continues speaking to Harada. "You understand my client has suffered a major head injury? The information she has provided may be false"

My stomach drops as the detective nods, "I do - though, as I'm sure you, ah, are aware she leaves me little choice, I can't ignore a confession."

I want to protest. _I am not mad! Or making anything up for that matter. _But before I can do anything too rash my grandfather's warm hand finds my shoulder. "Miki, if there's anything you are not one hundred percent sure of, or cannot fully remember I advise you not to answer."

I nod slowly, turning to face my interrogator. Who lights yet another cigarette.

"Now Miss Miura, I wonder if you can remember any further details about the accident, anything that might help us understand exactly what happened?

I shake my head. "No, I…" trailing off I wonder how honest to be. _Completely would seem the obvious answer. _"I mostly remember things through my nightmares, I don't remember much when i'm awake."

Both the detective and my grandfather's eyebrows raise, sharing a look in the smoky room. Grandad is the first to speak. "Miki, are you telling us your confession is based off a dream?"

"A nightmare." I mumble, eyes fixed on my trainers. _They both must think I'm insane._

"Oh the prosecutor is going to have a, ah, massive amount of fun dealing with your case Miss Miura." A hint of a smile plays around the detective's lips, which vanishes so quickly I wonder if it were ever truly there.

"Who?" I ask, feeling increasingly stupid.

"The public prosecutor Miki," My grandad says quickly, "They are the one to decide if you will face trial or not. He will meet with you soon enough."

"Am I under arrest?" I ask slowly, wishing I knew more about Japanese law.

"No, at least not technically. If you miss your appointment with the prosecutor a warrant will be issued. But your, ah, lawyer will ensure that doesn't happen I'm sure."

Grandad nods, his hand still on my arm.

"Right then, I suppose we better start at the beginning again. See if we make a bit more sense of this." Harada says not unkindly.

With a sigh I start to confess all over again, but this time dimly aware that I still might be missing vital details. _For the first time since pronouncing my guilt I feel a shiver of doubt - What if this really was a big mistake?_


	38. Just Like Old Times

"_Miss Miura I find you guilty of this crime!" The shallow faced judge roars, much to the delight of the baying crowd. _

_Icy wind burns on my face as I desperately will some part of my body to move, to let me respond, to let me do anything other than stand unbound yet immobile in front of the terrifying judge. As if sensing my pointless struggles the crowd of empty faced observers surges forward. _

"_You can't run from this Miss Miura! You are a killer and a liar, and you will face justice!" Tiny speckles of spit fly from his flapping jowls, landing like tiny molten pinpricks on my upturned face. I struggle, but try as I might I can't force my hand to wipe the vile substance away. _

"_Turn and face your sentence!" His voice is less a command and more a fanatical scream. _

_My body turns easily, the invisible restraint having vanished. However it returns the moment I catch the eye of my punisher; forcing me to look directly into the disgusted face of my boyfriend. No, no please, not him. _

_Hisao holds a shimmering silver axe causally in one hand, the blade glinting evilly despite the fact the sky is grey and the sun has been banished by tempestuous clouds. Between us sits a wooden pedestal, it's surface marked with hundreds of cuts and grooves the evidence of generations of axe swings. Blood has soaked so thoroughly into the block that it has turned black. _

"_Hand." It's a single word but Hisao's voice quivers with so much rage it feels like he's slapped me. _

"_No! Please." I beg, even as my left hand drifts forward to rest palm down on the chopping block. "No!" I scream as I feel warm wetness under my fingertips. "Hisao, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry."_

"_You deserve this." He says firmly, raising the axe above his head. "You know you deserve this, you just can never tell the truth." _

"_Hisao no! Hisao, Hisao! HISAO!" _

_The axe drops. _

"Miki! For god's sake wake up!" What I first assume is the convolutions of agonising pain swiftly melds into a pair of hands desperately shaking my shoulders.

_Wha? _

"Wake up, it's just a nightmare!" Ikuno's pale face appears hazily in front of me, obscured by a mixture of hot tears and messy hair.

_What is she doing here? _Before the question has even finished crossing my mind, it's replaced with the sudden and brutal recollection of a silver axe biting through dark flesh. Instinctively I move to cradle my left hand, only to find my fingers closing around thin air. It's such a contradiction between what I can feel and what my senses are telling actually exists that the twisted phantom of my hand vanishes, leaving me sweaty, scared and utterly confused.

"Where am I?" I ask, trying to shake the hair out of my face.

The look on Ikuno's face makes me wish I had kept my vision obscured, she looks petrified. Standing over me in her frilly white night dress, her blue eyes wider than I ever remember seeing them. There's a quiver in her voice as she speaks. "Miki, you're- Should I go and get your therapist?"

_What? _

Oh… right. I suppose that really wasn't the right question to ask when trying to assure someone of your mental wellbeing. With a slow breath I allow myself to take in the sights and sounds of my room. Messy desk, absent mirror, red illuminated numbers on the clock, all seems to be in order. It's all so strangely comforting, as if I'm returning here from a long and arduous journey - despite the fact I never left.

"Sorry," I say softly, trying to sit up. "I'm fine."

"Are you sure?"

_No. _

Pain begins to seep back into my ghostly hand. The phantasmal feel of my lost fingers returning with a feeling like scolding slag being poured into a roughly hand-shaped mould. Pushing my stump into my gut I wonder if there's any way to reproduce the brain short circuit that so effectively cancelled out the phantom. Probably. But it would require a level of nightmare induced delirium that I - unfortunately - appear to have recovered from.

A warm hand gently touches my shoulder, the bed sinking gently as Ikuno settles onto the edge of the mattress. "Hey," she says softly, "You're worrying me."

I frown, what does she mean? _Oh. _I guess I never really answered her. This is strange, I've never been this spaced out after a dream - then again I've never gone so long without having a bad dream. I thought - rather foolishly I now realise - that my confession had cleansed my soul enough to spare me from my nightmares.

"I'm okay, honestly." My throat feels dry, and I gesture a little vaguely for the glass of water on my nightstand. _At least I didn't send that flying across the room. _"Why are you here?" I ask with curiosity. _I don't really feel up to anger or bitterness at the moment. _

"My neighbour was screaming her head off." A small smile touches her lips as she passes the cool glass into my clammy palm.

"Aren't we fighting?" I ask, before taking a long drink.

"We..." She stops herself. "I couldn't just leave you."

"It's just like old times huh?" I say, handing back the now empty glass and sitting up a little straighter in bed. Under the covers my missing hand forms into a tight fist, forcing imagined nails into imagined flesh with the force of an exploding star. The intensity of the pain makes me feel dizzy and sick to my stomach. My breath coming in desperate gasps I pitch forward onto my ex best friend's chest.

Her arms wrap around me. "I wish we could be like we were back then."

"Why can't we be?" I ask, closing my eyes. _Please just let her forgive me. _

"It's complicated." Her arms are still around me, but the muffled quality in her voice tells betrays her reluctance to look at me.

"I'm sorry." I say quickly; pointlessly.

"I know. I'm sorry too." I don't understand why she's apologising, but I don't interrupt. "There are things I need to work out, not just with you but with myself."

_If she has problems wouldn't it be better to work them out with a friend? _Then again, how much of a friend can I really claim to be. There's enough uncertainty in my future to make even the most experienced of gamblers hedge his bets.

"You couldn't bring yourself to speak about this when we were at your parents house, could you?" I keep my tone intrigued, rather than accusatory.

A lone tear runs down my cheek as I open my eyes. Ikuno's sapphire gaze meets mine, a tiny smile on her lips. "I didn't think you would remember that."

_Strolling into the territory of what I can and cannot remember seem's like a fine way to break up the first amicable talk we've had in weeks. _Hell, this _is _the first time we've spoken since I came back from the police station. It suddenly hits me how important it is to not jeopardise this moment with stupid or misjudged words, a task that would be a damn sight easier if my hand didn't smart so bloody much.

"Once you've worked things out." I say slowly, relying on a tactic of selective deafness for her last comment. "Could we see if we can work us out?"

"I thought you would be angry at me?" She replies softly, demonstrating her own clever use of temporary hearing loss.

"I was, perhaps with good reason, perhaps not. It's just all so pointless, Ikuno I'm-" I stop myself, sitting up with a grimace so I can meet her eyes properly as I continue: "I'm so scared right now… I just want my best friend back." My own honestly surprises me, I'm not sure I meant to say that. _Well I obviously meant to say it. _Just not so bluntly.

She cooks her head to one side ever so slightly. "You know, that's the first time you've ever admitted to being scared by your dreams. I mean, I could guess before bu-"

"It's not just the dream." I say quickly, cutting her off. "It's everything, I still don't know if I'm going to court or not. And I'm starting to think I made a huge mistake when I confessed." I gasp for air as I finish my rapid sentence, unsure if my ex-friend heard even half of my ramblings.

"When do you find out?" she asks softly. "About going on trial I mean."

I sigh heavily. _Now there's the question. _"It could be any time. All I can do is wait for my granddad to phone with the prosecutor's decision."

"Will you tell me when you know?"

_She cares?_

"Of course." I pause for a moment, biting my bottom lip. "If I do go to court, will you go with me?"

Now it's Ikuno's turn to bite her pale lip. I want to tell her it's okay to say no, that it's a lot to ask, and it's not like we are even friends - Not at the moment anyway. But I stay quiet, watching in amazement as her head slowly starts to nod. "If you want me to be there, I will."

"Thank you," I reply, using my good arm to pull her into a gentle hug.

Our embrace ends naturally, but the space between us after we part seems much wider than before. There is an air of finality in the room, like a somber presence that accompanies a funeral. Ikuno stands up slowly, using her knuckles to rub at her big blue eyes.

"What happens now?" I ask.

"Things go back to how they were I guess. Just… Just give me more time, okay?"

"Okay." I whisper. A part of me wants to berate her for her selfishness. _She's the daughter of millionaires, and her most painful medical issue is having to prick her finger, how much time does she really need to sort out her head? _But where's the gain in vocalising it? If she feels she needs time for whatever messed up reason then I have no choice but to give it to her, to be patient and hope she comes back to me.

She turns, slowly padding her way back to the door. I notice her gaze flicker over to the section of wardrobe where my mirror used to be, but she doesn't say anything.

"Your parents," I say suddenly, causing her to stop. "Will they really be affected by what I've done?"

She grimaces, before looking down at her feet. "No, I just." Her hand reaches out for the door handle, escape apparently foremost in her mind. "I just wanted a reason to not be friends with you."

"It's okay."

"No. It isn't." Ikuno spills out of my room in a swish of white lace.

_Well, that was surreal. _

But somehow, after all of tonight's events, I feel more hopeful. Sliding out of bed, I rejoice in the routine of striping out of my sweaty nightwear and pulling on the cool lycra of my running gear. It will be dawn soon, and the sky is just bright enough to let me claim a sliver of the rebellious night. _These really are like old times._

— — —

"That was so good!"

"I know right? Timeless, a masterpiece. Truly art at it's highest level." I'm impressed Ryouta managed to say so much with a mouth full of pizza. Impressed and disgusted.

"Do you think," I start slowly chewing on my own slice of pizza. "That all the people with conditions like ours in the Matrix also have them in real life? Or do you think the machines just gave a certain percentage of the population disabilities just for realism?"

"Okay," he sorrows, wiping his hand on his trousers. "Who are you and what have you done with Miki."

I try an Emi-like pout, but given the grin on Ryouta's face I probably just look like a fish. "You're complaining because I finally like one of your movies?"

"Hey, no complaints from me. I'm just shocked, I had no idea you were so deep."

"I can be deep." I grumble, taking another bite of nearly cold pizza.

"Deeply annoyed maybe." He smirks.

I'm still not entirely sure how I ended up at this impromptu movie night. School's been a strange place since my police interview, and not just because Ikuno is no longer - or at least very rarely - talking to me. There's a sense that people know I left the school that storm-battered morning, but they don't exactly know why. I suppose I should be thankful to Ikuno for that, she could have done a lot of damage with only a little gossip.

It's strange also in how little things have changed. Life moves on much as it has before. I am still expected to go to class, Hisao still has duties with the student council and I'm still the second fastest runner at the track and field club. _Though not for lack of trying, damn adorable little speed demon._

And perhaps most importantly Ryouta is still my friend. Despite not sharing a word in anger we haven't spoken since the interview. His proximity to Ikuno just made everything super awkward. _I wouldn't even have been surprised if he was angry at me. _After all, of all my friends he was the only one to not hear the news directly from me. For those reasons - and let's be fair - through my own cowardice I let the situation stagnate. That is, until he ambushed me outside the changing rooms tonight.

"There's the Miki I know!" He exclaims happily, "Staring off into the middle distance halfway through a conversation. How do you and Hisao get anything done?"

"Slowly," I grumble. "Glad to see your still a smart-arse."

"The one and only." He pauses, half his face screwing up in concentration. "Is that your phone?"

_Wha? _Oh shit! How the hell did he hear that? Throwing the pizza crust back into the box I dive off of his bed, wrestling with the pull cord of my gym bag. _Come on, come on. _I barely register who's phoning me before I have the handset pressed to my ear. _Why the hell did I listen to smart arse when he told me to put the damn thing on vibrate. _

"Hello?" I say a little shakily, aware of Ryouta's eyes on the back of my head as I kneel amongst the detritus spread across his carpet.

"Good evening Miki." Grandad replies, in a disturbingly professional tone. _Oh that is never a good sign. _"I've just finished speaking to the prosecutor." He continues, still in a voice that gives nothing away.

"And…?" I ask with nervous impatience.

"They have decided that there is not enough evidence, nor chance of conviction to pursue the matter of the truck crash any further."

Relief swells in my chest like a physical, tangible thing. _Is this what it feels like to be on drugs? _All the pressure and worry that has been slowly piling on top of me vanishes in one swift euphoric release. I fall back against Ryouta's bed, thanking every deity I can think of. Perhaps it's selfish, being so elated over the fact my confession came to nothing. Tatsuo's parents still lost their son... Was justice for them why I did all this in the first place? No. If I'm being honest, even though I feel immensely guilty for what I've done to them, none of this was for their benefit. I confessed to avoid being the incomplete person my father warned me about, and the fact that I found the courage to bare my sins is not nullified by the prosecutor's decision not to push ahead with a trial. Somewhere, perhaps far off in the distance grandad says something, but I don't catch it, or particularly care what was said. I've done it, I'm free. _What else matters? _

I've almost forgotten Ryouta is in the room until I catch sight of his puzzled pudgy face. He gives me an awkward half smile, and I realise how strange my reaction must look when you can only hear half the conversation. In an effort to put his mind at rest I give him the biggest smile I can muster, which even then does not seem to do justice to how I feel. Regardless Ryouta gets the message, flashing me a toothy grin and by an exuberant thumbs up. Vaguely I can hear my grandads voice, but once again I completely miss what he said.

_Never again. _Never again will I put myself in such a stupid pointless situation. I've risked everything, I could have lost Hisao. I definitely would have lost Ikuno, but now she can have all the time she needs. "Thank you so much." I whisper into the phone.

"Miki! Are you not listening to me?" He's almost shouting now, so desperate is he to be heard that I falter, the smile disappearing from my face.

"I… I'm sorry I was just excited," I say honestly.

"Well, be that as it may, we are not out of the woods yet. They are going to press ahead for a perjury conviction."

My thought process grinds to a halt as I try and comprehend what he just said.

"I'm sorry," Grandad continues softly, sounding more like my guardian now. "I did everything within my power, but they believe they have a strong case."

"O… Okay." I jitter in reply, a tight knot forming in my stomach.

"Miki, I know you don't want to hear this but perjury carries with it the possibility of up to six months in prison. It's low chance, but still a possibility that you will serve a custodial sentence. Do you understand?"

"Yes." I say breathlessly.

"But I'm going to do everything I can to make sure that won't happen. Okay?"

I make a sound somewhere between agreement and a groan. _Damnit, why couldn't he give me the bad news first? This sucks so much more for piggybacking on my moment of happiness. _

"Try not to worry." He pauses, as if realising the futility to his words. "We are going to get through this." _Where the hell is the 'we' in this? _"Would you like me to tell your parents? Or would you rather?"

"No, you." I say quickly, regaining some of my frazzled senses. "Please."

"Of course, will you be alright for tonight?"

_I don't know. _

"I think so."

"You're the strongest person I know Miki." I can't help but scoff at his words. "You are, and you are going to be fine. I will call you again as soon as I know the court date. Okay?"

Despite my assertions that I will be just fine he enquires about my well-being several more times - I just can't force false sincerity into my voice it seems. Finally, either satisfied or admitting defeat he says his goodbyes. Silence smothers the room, punctuated only by the snap as I close my phone. To his credit my normally exuberant friend remains in his seat, quietly waiting for me venture back from my tangled web of thoughts.

My phantom hand begins to prickle - a sure sign that a dose of pain is on its way. _Oh you can fuck right off. _With a snarl I force my stump into my stomach. This sucks so much, and what's worse is that I have no one to blame but myself. Hell, people tried to talk me out of it. _But oh no. _I just had to be the noble hero, I just had to be a warrior of truth and justice. _Bloody stupid…_

"Miki?" Ryouta says tentatively.

_Right, I'm still in my friend's room - Not the place for an epiphany regarding my stupidity. _"Sorry," I mumble.

"You look like you're about to punch someone." _I suppose he would know that look well. _"That was your grandad right? What has he done?"

"Nothing," I grimace, leaning my head against his soft mattress and staring up at the ceiling. "Well, he told me I'm being put on trial for perjury, but that's not his fault."

"Perjury?" He says confusedly, the rest of his sentence left hanging. _I thought Ikuno said you killed someone._

I exhale slowly, not entirely sure I have the energy to explain my situation to Ryouta. _Then again he waited for me and welcomed me back with open, albeit unequal arms. _That's the kind of friend a girl behind bars could do with, come to think of it, it doesn't matter if I'm incarcerated or not, Ryouta is the kind of friend I can't afford to lose.

"They've dropped the manslaughter or whatever it's called charge, but because I made two contradicting police statements…" I trail off, assuming I don't need to explain any further. Truth be told I never really gave the perjury thing much thought. Why would I? Killing someone seemed to make my other crimes rather a mute point.

"Well that's good right?"

"How the hell is it good?" I snap, the searing pain in my hand giving my words a razor edge.

Ryouta winces, pushing himself away from me. "Chill!" he says, showing me the flat of his palm. "I just meant it's good they dropped the manslaughter charge. That's all."

_I didn't think about it like that. _Ryouta's right though, I've avoided the far more serious charge. I guess the shock and disappointment blinded me to the fact that I've actually had a remarkably lucky escape. _A few months, after all, is a whole lot better than several years spent behind bars._

"I still might go to prison," I mumble, unable to meet Ryouta's gaze.

"Nah." He says nonchalantly. 

"You know something I don't?" I grunt, my irritable words tasting bitter in my mouth.

"I just know everything is going to be alright." He shrugs. "And if it's not I will smuggle you a file inside a cake."

"Thanks." I smile begrudgingly. He sounds so much like he believes his words absolutely that I find it hard not to do the same. But I can't allow myself to grow complacent, if living with my drunken mother has taught me one thing it's that I need to prepare for disappointment. _I've managed to dodge one hell of a bullet today - An all the more fortunate feat when you consider I fired it at myself. I can't rely on that same luck again._

"Eh," he grins getting ungracefully to his feet. "I like to think of us as a team, my one armed amigo. We look out for each other."

"I suppose we do." I admit, deciding to ignore his term of endearment. I don't much like being defined by my stump. I risk a glance down at my butchered appendage, paranoid the phantom will sense it's being watched. But no, the pain, through some great act of cosmic mercy, has already started to fade away into nothingness, leaving behind only a few tendrils of prickly heat.

"Anyway," Ryouta says, opening his wardrobe door to reveal pile upon pile of DVD's. _I guess that explains why all his clothes are on the floor. _"You wanna borrow the Shawshank Redemption? It has subtitles."

"What's it about?" I ask suspiciously, Ryouta has never once in all the time I've known him offered to part with one of his precious movies.

"A prison break." He says with a huge lopsided grin. "Might be educational."

"Thanks smart arse."


	39. Attack

Fluorescent lighting. That's all I'm going to be able picture in my mind's eye when I look back on my time in district courtroom number three. The chamber is soaked in the unnatural, flickering light. With no windows we could very well be miles underground - which I suppose is appropriate - this unnecessary formality will become my tomb.

Fidgeting uncomfortably I glance around the room already oversaturated with murmuring voices. Despite how crowded the room seems to be, many of the chairs are unoccupied, including the divided front row of the public gallery - which is reserved for the friends and family of criminal and victim alike. _Though, I have no idea if Tatsuo's family will be here. _

A reassuring hand closes over my shoulder. "You doing okay? Won't be long now, waiting is always the hardest part." My grandfather's voice and touch seem to anchor me somewhat, and for the moment the air no longer feels so heavy.

I shrug, he sits behind me, our bodies separated by the table on which his paperwork is liberally scattered. I'm reminded of my own desk back at Yamaku, and a small part of me is happy to know that untidiness runs in the family.

"Well actually the chairs here might be the hardest part," he chuckles, but it feels forced. "Every courtroom I go to, they always pick the most uncomfortable seating they can find. I suppose they think it keeps people honest."

"Those chairs don't look so bad," I say, nodding towards the raised stand, behind which sit three very comfortable looking black recliners.

"Well the judges are afforded more than their fair share of comfort." His gruff voice evaporates into another laugh, but this time he doesn't seem to need to pretend. "Then again, the last thing you want is your judges to be irritable. Anyway it would appear you have some visitors."

I look around wildly, before I finally catch his amber eyes across the wooden fence that separates the pantomime of justice from it's voyeuristic audience.

_He made it. _

Hisao smiles at me nervously, adjusting his tie. _He looks good in a suit. _It's probably inappropriate, but admiring my boyfriend's slightly short brown jacket is a welcome distraction. In fact his mere presence is gloriously thought-consuming. I wonder what his parents think of all this? I mean, they must have given him permission to take a break from school - but do they know the reason why? If they do, I suspect I won't be baking any cakes with his mother for quite awhile.

But he's not alone. True to her word Ikuno slips into the seat beside him, her dress practically screaming: 'I cost more than your car'. I almost find myself laughing as she's joined by Ryouta, who by contrast looks like he borrowed his suit from his dad. _He probably did. _Regardless of attire he throws me a massive grin and an exuberant thumbs up, much to the mixed horror and amusement of my other friends.

I smile back, suddenly feeling like things might actually be okay. _Wouldn't hurt to hope right?_

My comfortably empty thoughts are interrupted by a sharp sting of realisation as I look at my boyfriend, or more accurately I look at who isn't sitting near him, or anywhere in the hall for that matter. _My parents. _They must know the trial is today, there's just no universe in which grandad would not have told my mum at least. So is their absence some kind of statement? Is it because I didn't phone them after I confessed? I should have, I know I should have. But I grow out of the notion that my mum and dad were people I could turn to long ago.

_Honestly, that's what they get when they task their daughter with raising herself. _

I shake my head, hoping no one notices as I try and dislodge that disgusting thought. I should have said something, hell they might even think I'm the one who abandoned them. I should have asked my grandfather last night, we were after all stuck in a car in uncomfortable silence for hours. _Why are my thoughts always lagging so far behind my actions? _Twisting like old rope my phantom limb asserts itself painfully, mocking my self pity in it's own not so subtle way. Crossing my arms I push the remainder of the limb into my stomach, hoping no one will notice.

"Miki," my grandfather says softly from behind me, "they will be here later, once Miss Kita collects them."

Slightly stunned I twist in my seat, turning around to meet a familiar smile. I used to hate that look, It's the look he always gave me when I told him everything at home was fine, despite rather obvious evidence to the contrary. Our fingers briefly touch across the table, a moment of stillness in which I allow myself to wince, my missing appendage cooling slowly like an ingot of molten iron.

The creak of a door draws my attention away from my guardian and the pain. Striding confidently out of the shadowy corridor directly opposite me a woman emerges, she reminds me forcibly of a raven as she takes her seat at the desk mirroring my grandfather's. _So this is the prosecution? _

Pulling file after file from her bag I watch her closely, mesmerised by her graceful movements as she arranges everything perfectly in front of her. It's hard to reconcile, but for some people this is just another day at the office. Still, there's something sinister about her, I can't quite put my finger on what it is. Perhaps it's how angular everything about her seems to be, her lips, cheekbones even the winkles collected at the corners of her eyes seem to have been drawn by a ruler. Yet far from trying to hide this oddity, she seems to have chosen to accentuate it. Her silken black hair is trimmed perfectly to complement the strange collection of angles and straight lines which is her face. Despite looking like a neat sketch of one of death's agents she smiles at me politely, inclining her head to my grandfather.

_She's like a damn raven._

An expectant silence falls over the courtroom, broken occasionally by the rustle of clothes or a muffled cough. It's a surreal feeling, a bit like waking up in the hospital after my accident. Sitting exposed and centre stage I feel completely discounted - as if I were experiencing the scene through someone else's eyes. The pain in my hand dies down to mere prickles, the phantom so caught up in the anticipation permeating the room it forgot for a moment its otherwise singular goal of hurting me.

_I wonder if imagining a known medical phenomena as a separate entity living inside me strengthens or weakens my case? Perhaps best not mention it. _

Before I have much time to dwell on the question of my sanity there is a sound like a thousand broken violins, as dozens of chairs are pushed back against the marble by their rising occupants. I, however, falter. Until my granddad pokes me sharply in the back. Taking the hint I jump to my feet, just in time to see the first robbed figure slide solemnly into the room. One black-clad judge after another filters into the space behind their chairs until all three of them are peering out over the crowd, seeming more like ministers at a funeral than judges at a trial.

I briefly catch the eye of the middle - and most important - judge, his faded green pupils announce his age clearly, as if the grey hair and wrinkles were not obvious enough. I wonder if seniority is a deciding factor in who gets to be a head judge, when this guy pops his clogs will the two men either side of him compare birth dates for right of ascension? _I suppose it's a bit much to ask to have a women judge me alongside these old relics. _

Prompted by some invisible signal the judges bow, displaying to the court a complete gradient of greying hair all the way through to wispy white. I incline my head slightly, unsure if I'm supposed to be returning the gesture. Though it hardly seems to matter, the justices seem more interested in their plush chairs than the social niceties.

The room seems to exhale collectively as we sink back into our seats, following in the wake of the judges who look relieved to be off of their feet. I can't say I'm completely thrilled to return to my own numbing chair, but I put on what I hope is an indifferent, yet confident expression.

My gaze drifts from Hisao, to my friends, onto the prosecution and finally coming to rest on the wispy haired centre judge, who clears his throat gently, pulling a microphone closer towards his mouth. "Good morning." His voice is warm and soft, but delivered with the authority of a drill sergeant. "I believe we are ready to begin?" He pauses, looking to his colleagues. Neither of whom seem to have any objections, so he continues, now looking directly at me. "At this time I ask the defendant please rise and state her full name clearly for the court records."

I don't need to be poked this time to get unsteady to my feet. "Miura Miki, your honour." I say quietly, surprised that my muffled voice is picked up so well by the overhead microphones.

"Very good, you may be seated Miss Miura." The judge gives me the smallest of smiles, before turning towards the raven featured women perched on the edge of her seat. "Will the prosecution please state her name and read aloud the charges."

"Kasumi Karasu your honour." She pauses, picking up a sheet of paper, "The defendant is accused of committing perjury in an official statement, under article one-six-nine, on the fourth of June this year."

_What a mouthful. _

Miss Karasu sits down looking indecently self-satisfied. I promptly look away, lamenting the fact that the prosecutor who gave me my interview shortly after detective Harada's interrogation isn't here. While he wasn't exactly kind, he at least seemed to approach his job with the solemness it deserved. Unlike my current prosecutor, who seems to see this courtroom as a giant game - one she already thinks she's won. _Behind galactic emperor she probably has Shizune's dream job._

"Very good, very good." The judge who spoke before nods appreciatively, his hand moving slowly as he pens a note onto some unseen piece of paper. I'm not sure why he would need to, given there is young woman typing away quietly almost directly below him. _You probably don't make head judge if you rely on someone else's notes. _

Seemingly pleased with whatever he has written the judge continues, "My name is Yamasaki. I will be overseeing these proceedings." He pauses for a moment, as if waiting to see if there are any objections to his gentle tone. "I will be assisted by Mr Yoshida," he nods to the man on his right, "and by Mr Fukui." The small man lowers his head slightly, his face like crumpled silk offering no obvious emotion.

With his colleagues introduced Judge Yamasaki's attention returns to me. "Miss Miura as the defendant you are granted a number of rights. You have the right to a fair and speedy trial, to have council with your defence and the right to remain silent if you so wish, do you understand?"

Despite recent experience I still require a sharp poke in the back to cause me to stop nodding and lurch unsteadily to my feet. Reassuringly only slight amusement or downright indifference crosses the face of the judges. "I understand your honour." I say quickly, wincing at how flustered my voice sounds. Embarrassed I bend to sit down again, only to receive yet another sharp poke from my grandfather.

Smiling softly the head judge continues, "How do you pled to the charges laid against you by the prosecution?"

"Guilty," I say a nervously, half expecting him to tell me I'm wrong. _I don't know if it's a wise plea, but I honestly can't see more lies helping._

"Very well. Miss Miura from here on out you may remain seated," he smirks, "and need only rise for our final verdict."

Slowly I sit down slowly; expecting another prod.

"The prosecution will now make its case against the accused. Miss Karasu you may begin when you are ready." The judge settles back into his chair, making a cage with his delicate fingers as he looks expectantly to the prosecutors table.

"Thank you your honour," Karasu's words ring crisply through the muted hall, sounding more like an actress than a lawyer. "Ladies and gentlemen," she announces rising from her chair gracefully. "Perjury may at first seem a fairly minor crime, one that leaves no victims, that has little impact in the real world. Yet you only have to scratch a little deeper under the skin of this apparent misdemeanour to see the truth of this malicious and deceitful act."

_Is this rehearsed? _

"Miss Miura's actions have wasted police time, distracting an already overstretched force from much more pressing matters. Her actions have squandered police resources, again depriving those who truly need the aid. But perhaps the most heinous result of Miss Miura's deliberate actions is the uncertainty that has been forced upon the grieving Takahashi family, whose only son tragically died in the accident that the defendant chose to lie about."

She pauses for a long moment, letting her opening gambit sink into the crowd. I twist in my seat, looking to my grandfather to see his reaction. _Not good, would be an understatement. _Yet he rearranges his face back into one of neutral interest, smiling softly and gesturing for me to turn around. Which I do, only to come face to face with Miss Karasu, who appears to have been waiting for me.

"Before I call my first witness I would like to ask you a few questions Miss Miura."

I nod slowly, distracted by the faint hint of perfume radiating from her.

"Were you surprised to find a detective waiting in the office of your school therapist when you arrived on the fourth of June Miss Miura?"

I faultier, thrown off by the apparent randomness of her question. "No." I say tentatively. _Be honest, show remorse… that's all I can do. _

"So this was an arranged meeting?"

Again I nod, not sure if I'm supposed to give verbal answers or not.

"And did your therapist organise for you to meet the detective, or did you? Perhaps even your grandfather, I understand he is acting as your lawyer and guardian?"

"No, I mean..." I pause, allowing myself to take a breath. "I requested the meeting, and Dr Ueda arranged it." While feeling relieved that I managed to get the answer out in a coherent manner, I can't help but feel troubled by the tail end of her question. It's probably pretty obvious just from watching our interactions that grandad and I are related, and based on our respective ages it's probably not hard to guess how. But how could she know he acts as my guardian?

"So it would be fair to say you had plenty of time to prepare to make your statement?" She smiles softly, almost kindly at me. "I just want to be absolutely clear on this point, you yourself arranged the meeting with ample time to prepare your statement beforehand?"

I nod once, "Yes."

"And so you knew your statement to be false before you made it?"

I don't answer, my head to full of the implications of my reply. _Dammit. _I don't know how to respond. I want to be honest, I want to tell the truth and avoid being the incomplete person my dad warned me about. But at the same time honesty here could put me behind bars, _She's expecting an answer, everyone is… I'm just making it worse. _

"I didn't mean to hurt anybody." I say quietly, though my voice is picked up by the microphones well enough.

"That wasn't what I asked Miss Miura."

_I'm going to regret this. _My eyes flicker to Hisao, desperate to find some kind of reassurance there. He nods slowly, I let my gaze linger awhile longer, knowing all of a sudden what I really hope to find on his beautiful face - forgiveness.

"Yes," I say defeatedly, hanging my head.

"Think you Miss Miura." She sounds sincere, but I only have to peer up at her face to see the truth. She's barely able to contain her glee, it's like seeing Emi after she's a won a race, but a twisted abomination of my friend's joy, grafted onto a face that was never made for it. In a swift moment Miss Karasu is facing the judges, acting for all the world like the rest of the room no longer exists.

"Your honour, I would like to call my first witness." She almost sings the words.

"Very well." To my surprise the black robed judge answers, showing no obvious sign that he has been swayed either way by the questions. "Doctor Ueda, if you would kindly take the stand."

There's a collective shift of gaze through the room as my therapist, looking very dapper in a green suit and silver tie rises and makes his way down through the curious public gallery. His face is impassive as he steps through the small wooden gate that separates the observers from the observed, but I can't help but notice he twirls his wisp-white beard loosely around his finger. _Is he nervous? _

Karasu stares thoughtfully at the doctor as he takes his place behind the lectern in front of both myself and the judges. "Doctor Ueda," she begins, pleasantly enough but an air of cold calculation is present on her smiling face. "I wonder if you could describe your relationship to the accused?"

"I am Miss Miura's therapist," he replies calmly, "a role I have held since her first week at Yamaku Academy."

"So it would be fair to say you are well acquainted with the defendant's mental health?"

"I am," Dr Ueda replies, "I doubt you will find anyone else with a more comprehensive understanding of Miss Miura's physiological development over the last year and a half."

"That's excellent, as I'm sure you're aware an important aspect of determining a person's guilt is to understand their mindset when the offence occurred." The prosecutor throws me a weak smile over the doctor's shoulder. "Was the person in question able to discern fact from fiction? To understand right from wrong, to act, in other words as a sane and reasonable person?"

Dr Ueda seems to consider Miss Karasu for a moment, eyeing her up and down as he would one of his patients. Finally he inclines his head a fraction of an inch, universal therapist sign language for 'Please continue.'.

"How would you describe Miss Miura mental state on the fourth of June?" Karasu asks.

"As I remember Miss Miura was understandably nervous before giving her statement, at the time I think she was simply relieved to close the door on the accident and move on with her life."

"So you do not believe her alleged memory loss was a contributing factor to her false statement?" The raven faced lawyer moves her fingers thoughtfully to her chin, staring intently at her witness. As if waiting for the perfect moment to pounce.

"I did not say that." His tone is flat, but his irritation creeps in regardless. "Miss Miura is suffering from Dissociative Amnesia, this condition often occurs in cases of extreme trauma. For example, a particularly vicious mugging or sexual assault. Or, as in Miss Miura's case a vehicular collision which resulted in life-changing injuries."

Glancing briefly in my direction he continues, "As you can imagine a condition such as this is incredibly difficult to treat, however we were making good progress with her recollections, hence why she asked to make her statement."

"Your desire to protect your patient is admirable doctor, but in your professional capacity I would like you to answer my simple question: Did her condition effect Miss Miura's decision making process on the fourth of June?" Her words are not angry, not touched by any emotion really. They are just hard and cold, demanding attention and respect in equal measure.

"I do not believe so."

"So then, why do you believe she lied?"

"Self preservation," Dr Ueda replies simply. "I don't believe she acted maliciously, just out of fear and uncertainty. Both of which would have been heightened by her condition."

"But didn't you just-"

"You asked if Miss Miura was able to make her own decisions, I believe she was." The doctor interrupts, "But it would be foolish to assume that the accident, the Dissociative Amnesia and the loss of a limb did not have an effect on what she chose to do. I imagine you are aware of the term extenuating circumstances?"

"Perfectly." Miss Karasu replies, struggling to keep the venom from her normally composed voice. _She's not as good at this as she thinks. _"Yet I wonder if you believe, as I do, that Miss Miura's actions were as a direct result of the information withheld from her?" Licking her lips she smiles, "After all, you agreed to keep the police report from your patient, presumably at her grandfather's request. I can see how she would have difficulties regaining her lost memories under that arrangement."

A snap of wood striking mahogany rings through the courtroom before anyone has the chance to respond. I had almost forgotten judges were present, given the argument occurring right in front of me. There's a brief silence before the head judge beings to speak, resonating absolute authority with each syllable. "Miss Karasu, you will kindly watch what you are inferring. Even if your witness if not giving you answers you personally find satisfactory."

The raven-faced prosecutor looks like she's just been slapped, much to the barely concealed delight of Dr. Ueda. _I'm not bold enough to do it, but I'm fairly sure if I turned around I would see the same smile on my grandfather's face. _Instead I sneak a glance in the direction of my friends, who offer reassuring smiles and a mouthed 'Ohhh burn.' from Ryouta - Ever the master of subtlety.

"My apologies your honour. It wasn't my intention to accuse the witness of any crime. I'm simply interested in why he kept the details of a car crash from a young woman so desperate to remember them?" Karasu turns her attention back to Dr Ueda as she finishes her sentence, recovering quickly from her scolding.

"And how exactly is this relevant?" My grandfather's voice seems to warm the back of my neck, as he weighs in from behind me.

"It's relevant because it helps to explain why a young woman is left so tragically misinformed that she ends up in court for perjury. Had she been informed to begin with, as any decent guardian would have ensured, she would never have ended up in court. But then I should have known that our resident paragon of legal advice would fail once again when it came to defending his family, I sup-"

A boom echoes through the room as the gavel once again comes down on the desk. Only this time with significantly more force. "That is enough!" The leader of the judges roars, holding the tiny mallet above his head as if daring anyone to do anything that might call down its wrath once again. Despite his age he is an imposing sight, I try and sink down into my uncomfortable seat, lest his attention turn to me.

"Prosecutor Karasu, this is a trail, not a daytime soap! You will kindly keep your personal grievances out of my courtroom, unless you wish for me to have you removed. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes your honour," A long silence follows these words, Karasu seeming to realise she's pushed things just that little bit too far. "I fear I may have become a little impassioned, my sincerest apologies."

"Your sincerity remains to be seen." The judge replies, clearly unimpressed. "Miss Miura," Instinctively I start to rise, but stop when he holds up his hand, his face softening dramatically. "Please remain seated Miss Miura, I simply want to ask you about the police report, did you not inquire about it yourself?"

"Grandad offered to show me," I say nervously, not quite able to meet his eye. "But I didn't want to see it, I wanted to remember for myself."

"I see, and this is something you supported, Doctor Ueda?" His focus shifts to the therapist standing before him.

"I advised against it, but given that Miss Miura was seeing me voluntary, advising was all I could do." I catch his eye and receive a fond smile for my trouble. "Nonetheless Miss Miura has made remarkable process even without access to official reports."

"Do you have any further questions for your witness Miss Karasu?" The judge asks, still looking at her with a certain measure of disdain.

"No your honour."

"Well then, dismiss him and make any remaining comments."

While a thoroughly put-out Karasu is administering to the court I seize my opportunity to turn in my seat, getting a look at my grandfather's face for the first time since the trial began. He looks… furious? Anger the like of which I've never known seems to emanate from him, his muscles strained tight under his ever-present white shirt. "What did she mean about failing the family?" I whisper. Her words had me concerned, his reaction has me truly worried. _What the hell is going on? _

_Isn't a trial significant enough drama for one day?_

"Later Miki," he replies in a gruff whisper, "much later." He points me towards the judge dismissively.

I turn around tentatively, something definitely isn't right. But this is hardly the time to deal with it. Karasu is ready for whatever snide comments she has left to make, her expression harder than ever. We both take a deep breathe as she strides forth; seeking out the limelight.

"Ladies and gentlemen, we have heard from the defendant's own mouth how she knowingly and purposely falsified her statement. We heard from her therapist how he believed Miss Miura to be fully competent when she was making her statement, and let us not forget he was witness to the entire interview, he never felt the need to intervene."

She pauses, her eyes narrowing in on my grandfather.

"By any standard Miss Miura is guilty, she has admitted as much herself. Her actions, for which she can only provide weak excuses have caused the misuse of both police time and resources. She has through her willing deception caused untold pain to an already grieving family. This fact should not be forgotten when it comes to assigning a sentence. I thank you for your time."

And with that she's finished. She returns to her seat with the same flourish she left it, her arms crossed over her chest and her gaze resolutely fixed just over my shoulder, her jaw fixed. _Damn it! _I can't be focusing on whatever is going on between this raven faced woman and my grandad, but her words are gnawing at me. It's unbelievable, she's more or less just demolished any case I can imagine my defence making. But it's her mention of my family that is occupying my thoughts.

"Very good, Prosecutor Karasu, thank you." The head judge is speaking again, "It's a little early for lunch, but I think the accused would welcome a chance to compose herself before this afternoons hearing, and both legal parties will benefit from some time to clear their heads. So that when they return their prior animosity will be left outside my courtroom, am I clear?"

Both lawyers reply politely, with assurances of improved behaviour from the prosecutor's table. None of which the judge looks like he believes. Nevertheless he and his silent cronies rise to their feet, before marching sombrely away. The room relaxes considerably once they are gone, and I waste no time in hurrying to Hisao.

"Hi." He says softly as he quickly stands up, our bodies separated by the wooden face that barely comes up to our knees. _It would be so easy to hop over it and into his arms. _Unfortunately - or fortunately I suppose, given the circumstances - a warm hand lands on my shoulder before I can act on my mad impulse.

"Miki, come away. You can't be here." Grandad says, applying a soft pressure to my shoulder, presumably to get me moving back to the small room we occupied before the trial began.

For a half a moment I consider resisting, but again I manage to quell the impulse. "I love you," I say softly. "I will see you after, okay? All of you." I try a reassuring smile, but manage only a sort of lopsided grimace.

"You'll be fine," Hisao manages to say, before I cave to the pressure on my shoulder and allow myself to be led away. I chance one last look at the door. _What? _Ikuno is speaking to my green suited therapist, my other friends looking on, apparently just as confused as I am. _Does she know him? _Unfortunately my window to wonder is extinguished as I'm pushed firmly through the door.

The small wood-paneled room feels noticeably less stuffy than the courtroom, despite the disparity in size. It must have something to do with the large cross-hatch window letting dappled sunlight dance across the table that occupies a majority of the space. I suppose on balance some privacy - even if it deprives me of my boyfriend - would be no bad thing. I have questions to ask, first: Did what that lawyer said have anything to do with my father?

_And second: Will I be able to handle the answer?_


	40. Defence

The sound of clean white paper being turned is like a guillotine blade in the warm stillness of our tiny room. I glance up at my grandfather, silhouetted by the white sunlight streaming into the room. He hasn't said anything - not a single word since we parted with Hisao and my friends.

We've been given extra time to work on our - or I should say his - defence for when my trial resumes in the afternoon. Either grandad is fully dedicated to my case, or he knows exactly what I'm going to ask and is avoiding the question like the plague. _Cowardice does not suit him._

"What did she mean." I ask, taking matters into my own hands… _hand._

He doesn't respond immediately, his attention fixed on the paper in front of him. Yet I can tell he's not reading anything by the way his eyes move, he's simply delaying the inevitable. Is it guilt causing him to act this way? I'm almost certain he could keep whatever he liked from me without much effort. _Hell, he did keep my fathers letters from me without batting an eyelid. _

"What did she mean about what?" He replies at last.

"Don't."

I wonder how much he reveals when he refuses to meet my gaze.

"Miki, we are halfway through your trial, now is not the time."

"So there is something to what she said? Because if there's a time to talk about it, then you admit there is something we need to talk about?" I wonder if I can hire Miss Karasu to make these accusations for me, because I'm sure I'm making next to no sense.

"It was just nonsense to try and throw me." He rolls his eyes, not entirely convincingly, "I've known that woman for years. In fact for a time I was her mentor."

"You were?" I ask in surprise. I had no idea he ever instructed anyone, but then when have we ever spoken about his job? And miss ravenface didn't exactly radiate gratitude to an old teacher. _In fact the only person in the room she seemed to respect was herself._

"I had hoped she would become a defence lawyer but alas… She chose the path of least resistance. I can't pretend I'm not disappointed." He sounds so cold, it's disturbing.

"Being a prosecutor is easier than defending someone?"

He nods sagely, "Japan has a ninety-eight percent conviction rate, and that isn't because the police are particularly brilliant at their jobs."

"But there's more to it than that isn't there? Because otherwise you would have just told me," I say stubbornly. Their relationship is an unexpected revelation, however it doesn't explain everything. "So what did she even mean? How did you fail dad?"

"It was a long time ago," he mumbles reluctantly.

"Could you sound any more guilty," I say, my throat feeling increasingly tight, "Seriously, what the hell did you do?"

"You wouldn't understand."

"Try me."

"Dammit, we have more important things to be talking about." He deflects, which only causes my anger to bubble over, spilling over me with a silent ferocity.

"What aren't you telling me?" I yell, drawing his startled face to mine.

_I know I should leave this alone, I need him. Desperately. But I just cannot stomach any more lies, especially when I am putting everything on the line to tell the truth. _

He doesn't answer straight away, his purple eyes so like mine darting around in panic. I feel bile rise in my throat as he finally drops his gaze, sinking back into his chair. The creak of leather the only sound in the stillness. "He wasn't good enough for her, or for you. You have to understand… I was just looking out for my daughter and my grandchild." His voice has lost all it's confidence, all it's authority. He sounds weak.

I feel like I've been punched in the chest, my heart seems to pause for breath as his words wash over me. "W… What?" I stutter, unable to make my mouth work correctly.

"I never liked him, from the moment he and Haruka met. He could never give her the life she deserved. So when the accident happened and I had to defend him…" He trails off, resided to his fate and needing no further explanation. "Karasu was present, she understood exactly what I did. She thought I had betrayed my family."

"That's because you _did _betray us," I snarl. "How dare you! How fucking dare you make that choice for mum? For me? You really think so little of your own daughter?" _You really thought your granddaughter would be better without a father?_

"No! You have to believe me." He's begging now, "I thought your mum would find someone else… How could I have known she would turn to drink? I never meant that to happen to you, or her."

"That's why you supported us," I say with sudden realisation. "It was never about love, it was guilt."

"Miki! I would have supported you no matter what."

"Does mum know?" I ask, unsettled by how calm my voice sounds. _There's no use shouting anymore, there's no argument to win, no point to make. _

"No, but you can't tell her."

I laugh sardonically. "You honestly think you get to tell me what to do anymore? You think you get a say in my life ever again?"

"There's still the trial." He replies simply.

"I neither want, nor need you there."

"Look you have every right to hate me, believe me, I know that. But let me do this last thing for you." He pauses, "Then, if it's what you want I will stay out of your life, I… I promise." I've never heard him sound so gruff or so sincere.

Do I want him out of my life? No… No, I don't want to lose another family member. But at the same time, I can't see a place for him anymore. I can't envision a time when I will be able to look at him and feel anything other than disgust, betrayal… hatred? Do I hate him? I can't be sure, I've never hated anyone as far as I know. But, well if this isn't hatred I don't know what it is.

And yet, he's the only person in the entire world who can help me. _How absolutely fucking perfect. _I don't want him near me, I don't want him to see me - not in the way a stroppy teenager thinks about these things, but an absolute inescapable fact. _I suppose in it's simplest terms it boils down to this: Am I willing to let my abhorrence of this man send me to prison?_

His phone starts to ring, a blaring tone in the stillness. I expect him to push the cancel button and return us to our sombre silence. But, judging by the look on his face this is a call he wants to take. _What does it even matter? _Catching his eye I nod, once. A quick yet mournful gesture, like a general sending her troops on a doomed mission. Then without a second glance he accepts the call, leaving the room as quickly as he physically can. _Apparently running away also runs in our genes. _

I reach for my phone in my jeans pocket, only to realise I'm still in my skirt, blouse and jacket from court. _Was that only half an hour ago? _I'm losing my damn mind, perhaps I will end up in an asylum rather than a prison. I guess a cell is a cell, at least the one in the madhouse will be nice and padded. _I don't fancy the straightjackets much though - at least I can escape from handcuffs without much difficulty. _

Not that I would even be allowed to use my phone in here, even if I had the thing. I don't suppose I was meant to be left alone either, but I'm completely okay with the violation of that rule. I, unlike my grandfather don't have the option of running, either metaphorically or literally. So I pull his stack of paperwork towards me and begin to read. The notes turn out to be completely indecipherable, but still I soldier on, hoping some reassurance may materialise before my eyes, or at the very least some answer as to why my guardian would have betrayed me so completely.

_I seriously doubt I will find either. _

— — —

Who would have thought that the most unbearable thing in a room of headache-inducing florescent lights and back breaking wooden chairs would be my grandfather's eyes burning into the back of my head. On the upside. _The fact that there is an upside is fairly remarkable. _With all my anger focused on the man behind me I'm finding myself increasingly apathetic to what's going on in the court around me.

_It's a feeling I'm probably going to regret later. _

"Good afternoon everyone." The head judge is as softly spoken as he was before lunch. "We will continue from this morning, allowing for the defence to present its case. Mr Miura, you have the floor."

I turn my attention fixedly to my feet, as grandad walks around the table. Striding confidently into the centre of the room. Out of curiosity I flick my gaze up to see how the prosecutor is taking the rather prompt return to the proceedings. As I expected she is sitting comfortably in her seat, her legs crossed and her fingers interlocked on her chest. A look that seems to say: 'Impress me'.

"Ladies and gentlemen, this morning you heard from the prosecution, you were told my client was guilty of perjury." He shrugs, as if this is something hardly worth mentioning. "Hardly a revolution, my client admitted as much herself. However what the prosecution has failed to do was prove malice in her actions, indeed as I'm about to demonstrate my client acted as almost anyone would given similar circumstances."

"Miki," I stiffen at the sound of my name from his lips. "It would be fair to say the accident in which you were injured was a major turning point in your life, you went through a myriad of changes. Were all of them negative?"

_What? _Even the normally unreadable judges share confused looks. I begin to nod, but stop, giving myself time to actually think about his question. Was losing my hand a positive experience? Of course not. But getting away from my old high school was, getting away from the bullies and the drink and having to care for my drunk mother was. All of these things combined to make life better - albeit different - Than before the accident.

I shake my head. "No, not everything after the accident was bad…" I trail off, wondering if I've given the correct answer.

"Could you be more specific?"

I glance over to Hisao and my friends, who are now settled next to my worried looking parents before answering. "Yamaku, I didn't really want to go there to begin with. But it's been- Well it's been better than my old high school."

"So you have made friends at Yamaku Academy?" He asks, his face unreadable.

Part of me wants to tell him to stuff his stupid questions, but talking about school seems to have woken some previously undiscovered well of determination within me. Using him as tool to gain my freedom is not an act of forgiveness on my part, so let him build his case. I will answer whatever question he throws my way, then when I walk out of here a free woman I can shut him out of my life completely.

I gesture feebly in the direction of the public gallery, "I have."

Grandad smiles sadly, before continuing softly, "It is of course impossible to rate one person against another, but would you describe your new friends as being closer than those you had before the accident?"

"I didn't really have friends before, just people I used to hang around," I say. "I'm much closer to my friends Yamaku."

Strictly speaking I'm not sure Ikuno and I have returned to friendship status, or if we're still fighting, or are on a hiatus or what the hell is happening. But it seems prudent not to mention little things like that.

"Do you have any plans for after you've finished with school, Miki?"

"Objection!" Miss Karasu's voice reverberates off the cream walls before I have a chance to answer. "Your honour, the defence is wasting the court's time with questions that bear no relevance to the case."

Anger flashes across my grandfather's face, and he turns away from the prosecution, clearly not wanting her to have the satisfaction of knowing she's gotten to him. Before, I might have shared in his anger - after all this women is just as against me as she is against him - but now I can't seem to summon any sympathy for the man as he crosses his arms, waiting silently for the judge to respond.

"Does this line of questioning arrive at something substantive to this case, Mr Miura?" The central justice asks, eyebrows raised.

_Gah, why must we share a surname? _I know strictly speaking he had it first, but dammit it's just another reminder that I'm related to him - as if I'm going to be able to forget. Perhaps I should take my dad's surname, that would be some kind of strange cosmic justice, or vengeance perhaps. But I don't want to hurt mum's feelings - it's her surname as well after all - and I doubt she has any immediate plans to marry, especially amongst all this chaos.

_Hah, maybe I should just start looking into becoming a Nakai._

"Yes your honour." My defender's voice snaps me back to reality, my mind lost in a thicket of surnames and the sobering thought of how I'm going to explain to my mother what my grandfather has done.

"Very well, I will give you the benefit of the doubt." The judge's gaze narrows as he looks between my grandfather and Miss Karasu, as if suspecting some mischief yet unable to ascertain exactly what it is. With a slow sigh he sits up straighter in his seat, the comfortable leather creaking as he does so. "Miss Miura, I believe the defence was asking after your aspirations for when you finish high school?"

"I want to go to university," I say, deciding to omit the fact I would probably never pass an entrance exam. "Then become a physical therapist." I feel my cheeks redden and bow my head. I never like telling people about the job I aspire to, because I'm going to feel like such let down when everything inevitably goes to shit and I end up handing out precariously balanced trays of fast food.

"Thank you your honour," grandad says, turning back to me with a wide smile. "And these plans for the future, of furthering your education and having your eyes set on a job, were they brought over from your old high school?"

_What? Oh… We're playing the 'guess the answer I'm looking for' game again._

"No, I didn't really see myself having much of a future until I went to Yamaku." From the exuberant look on granddads face I've said the right thing. I almost find myself returning his smile, until the memory of what he's done wipes the stupid grin from my face. _How could I have for even one moment forgotten what this monster has done to my family. _

Noticing my reaction grandad withers, looking away. I wonder if anyone else notices this silent exchange, I half expect Miss Karasu to leap to her feet with another objection, but there's nothing, and my guardian continues to speak, now addressing the crowd before him.

"Ladies and gentlemen you have sitting before you a young women who for the first time in her life has found her place in the world. Who has fresh dreams and aspirations despite being victim to a life-changing accident. Is it really any wonder that this person would fear telling the truth when she had so much to lose? No, I don't believe it is."

_I wonder if it would help if I pointed out I had more to lose when I told the truth than I did when I lied? _

"But wait, I can almost hear my colleagues arguments. All wrongdoers fear the truth of their actions, why is my client any different?" He pauses, as a teacher might when expecting someone to put their hand up and answer. "The answer rests in how my client regained her memories."

_Oh please, no, don't go there. _

I desperately try to catch his eye, willing him to notice and turn away from this dark path. I don't want my parents to know about this, or for Hisao to realise just how messed up his girlfriend truly is.

"Your honour, I would like to call my witness."

_Well, at least I never told Dr Ueda too much about the dreams. _I settle as low as I can go into my seat as the judge grants grandad his wish.

"Miss Komaki, please make your way to the stand."

I sit bolt upright, my mouth falling open as Ikuno extracts herself from between Hisao and Ryouta. _What the hell is going on? _Our eyes meet across the tiny fence that until very recently held her back as a spectator. She looks away first, head dropping shyly to the tiles at her feet.

Her petite frame looks positively tiny compared to the dais before her. Nevertheless she stands straight-backed, extruding a confidence that I think only I, her best friend, can tell is not entirely genuine. _I suppose coming from a family of powerful people - or at least people who are expected to appear powerful - rubs off on you. _

"Please state your name and relationship to the accused," the judge asks, eyeing Ikuno intently.It takes me a few moments to realise why he's so interested. He's trying to work out what's wrong with her, he must already know she's a classmate. _The bastard. _I know nearly every normal person would do what he's doing, but he's a judge, he's supposed to be better than normal people.

I have to fight down a sudden urge to protect my friend from his aged gaze, I manage to get my self destructive instinct back under control as Ikuno answers the question. "My name is Ikuno Komaki, and I'm Miki's friend, her best friend."

_If I make it out of this I'm going to remind her that saying she's my best friend in court makes it legally binding._

"Could you tell me how the two of you met?" Grandad asks, the hint of a smile playing around his mouth. _How the hell did he arrange this? _Or perhaps he didn't, Ikuno was talking to Dr Ueda before lunch, could she have been talking her way onto the witness stand? The good doctor would have been able to get in contact with grandad as a witness himself. I suppose my guardian might have told me, had I not been - justifiably - ignoring his very existence.

"Well, we sat together in class, and she was my dorm neighbour." Ikuno begins, not making even the slightest effort to hide how rehearsed this little speech is. "But we didn't speak until she woke me up at three in the morning, she was screaming her head off."

"And what was your reaction?"

"I listened out for anyone else checking on her, and when I didn't hear anything I got out of bed and knocked on her door."

_The only girl brave enough to confront the banshee. _

"And my client allowed you into her room?" Granddad asks.

"Yeah, she was all apologetic and stuff, but I could tell she was in pain."

"Pain?"

I glance over at my parents, who are both looking right back with clear concern. _Dammit. _There's a reason I didn't want them to know about the phantom. Mum already feels guilty enough for her intermittent presence during my recovery, and dad… Well dad has medical problems of his own, he doesn't need to be worrying about mine. I try for an encouraging smile as my best friend elaborates.

"Miki's hand, the one she lost... It's called phantom limb pain. It's really bad, especially after she has a nightmare. She tries to hide it, even around me… But you can tell she's in agony." She finishes apologetically, making an effort not to look at me.

"Miki?" I snap to attention as grandad says my name. "Could you expand on the witness testimony?"

I slide my gaze to the judge before answering, slightly disturbed to find just how alive with curiosity his face is. perturbed I risk a glance at Miss Karasu, pleased to see she looks positively livid at the judges sudden interest in me.

"Err, sure." I reply, unsure quite where to begin. Grandad nods at me encouragingly. "It's hard to describe. I can still feel my hand sometimes, but without anything physically there it's as if my brain can't fathom the exact shape. I can feel fingers stretching, or shrinking, sometimes they twist together or clamp into a fist. It's like someone putting your hand through a superheated mangle."

Strangely I notice the sudden silence as if it were a loud sound, cheeks red I stare intently at my shoes. _I didn't mean to say quite so much. _Especially in such detail, but what's done is done. I just hope my friends don't think differently about me, I don't need people to pity me. _Even if I end up in jail._

"And there is no treatment for this horrendous pain?" Grandad asks gently.

"No, nothing works. Other than having someone distract me." I throw Ikuno a grateful glance.

"As I'm sure doctor Ueda will confirm," my defence adds before turning back to Ikuno. "Miss Komaki, around the time Miss Miura made her statement how often was she subject to these terrible dreams and phantom pains?"

"Almost every night, it was a really bad time for her." Ikuno seems to be much better at deciphering the answer my grandfather is looking for. _They can't have had that much time to rehearse could they? _"It didn't help that she broke up with her boyfriend around that time as well, like I said, it was a really rough time for Miki," she finishes sheepishly.

I frown at my best friend before turning my attention to my boyfriend, who shrugs with a small smile. _He would probably remind me that this is all for the greater good. _After all, would I rather be in jail with my secrets or at university with my soul laid bare? The answer is obvious but still feels remarkably unfair. I suppose things would be different if the argument was over whether or not I had committed perjury, but confessing means this is now about mitigation. And the well-crafted image of a nearly broken girl will work in my favour.

"Thank you Miss Komaki, I have no further questions at this time." Grandad says gratefully, as all eyes turn to the prosecutor, who is studying Ikuno intently. _She seems to have thrown off the mask of the raven in favour of the coldhearted stare of a viper lining up to strike. _

"I have no questions for the witness your honour, she was not present for the offence and so can offer no facts to the court. Only what I imagine to be a well rehearsed caricature of the accused's _feelings_." There's something almost needlessly brutal in Karasu's cold dismissal of my best friend, as if the petite girl had personally offended her.

Perhaps it wasn't Ikuno herself who had caused the offence, rather the judge's reaction to her - an interest neither he nor his advisers seemed to extend to either the prosecutor or her witness. _Is she worried about losing?_ I don't get the impression her vendetta is aimed at me - I'm merely the tool for her revenge. Hell, if it wasn't my future on the line I would happily side with her against my traitorous grandfather.

With a small nod the judge sends Ikuno back to her seat, before giving the floor to my defender. It isn't lost on me that this will be the last speech before my fate is decided.

"Ladies and gentlemen before my witness was called I promised you a demonstration that, though my client acted rashly, she did so with no malice. I believe I have done just that. As we have heard my client has suffered a life changing injury that many of us here today could not possibly comprehend. We then went on to discover that my client still suffers from unbearable and untreatable phantom limb pains, is rocked each night by nightmares and yet despite all this is a girl who is pulling her life around, who has dreams and hopes for the future. Does she deserve to be robbed of her aspirations? To be torn away from her friends? All for the sake of a mistake conceived in an environment of fear and pain?" He turns to the judges, his head bowed as if begging. "Absolutely not, whatever crimes Miki has committed, she has atoned for them a thousand times over."

His conviction startles me, he would beg for me on his knees if it would do any good, I'm sure of it. In a way it's almost hard to accept he still has any love for me, because I'm trying so hard to convince myself I have none left for him. _Damn it. _This is my trial, my grandfather is not the person I should be focusing on at the moment.

The judge clears his throat, though his call to attention seems quite unnecessary in a room waiting to hear him speak. "Now that all evidence and testimony has been presented, we will retire to consider our verdict."

Giving no hint of how they might decide the judges raise from their comfortable chairs, and for the second time today the aged trio shuffle out of the room. I only remember to breathe again as the heavy oak door snaps shut behind the last black robbed official.

"Miki?" Looking around I come face to face with my grandfather, who has lowered himself to my eye level. I look away quickly, choosing to focus on one of the maddening florescent lights rather than him, now that I'm no longer in front of the judges I don't have to pretend we are on amicable terms.

"They might be awhile," he continues despite my obvious hostility. "You are allowed to wait in the corridor with your family if you like?"

I nod slowly, getting to my feet unsteadily, legs still numb from the torturous chair. I manage to turn towards my friends and family without looking at the man whose eyes I can feel on my back.

"Miki… I'm so sorry." He says quietly.

I bite my lip, holding back a reply. Instead I shrug my shoulders, walking away from the one person I thought infallible I catch the gaze of the prosecutor. _Bloody hell. _Her expression says quite clearly that she's gotten the win she wanted, the verdict - to her at least - is irrelevant.

_I suppose at least one person has found some joy in this fuck up of a day. _

— — —

I can't recall another time in my life when I've been surrounded by so many people who love and care about me. My parents flank me on either side of the bench directly opposite the courtroom door, Hisao kneels at my feet my sweaty hand held in his, an action mirrored by Ryouta and Ikuno who stand off to the side.

It feels like time has stopped as we wait in tepid silence. I'm caught between a fantasy that this moment with my family and friends might last forever and a burning desire to be called back into the courtroom, to be given the verdict simply to be done with it. I almost wish we could return to the kind, but ultimately meaningless words of reassurance that everyone bombarded me with. But even words of encouragement have their limits, and ours was reached roughly twenty minutes ago.

"I wonder where your grandfather's gotten to?" My mother says unexpectedly, looking at me with a perturbed frown.

I didn't have the heart to tell her of her father's betrayal. _If telling her is even my responsibility, I've already witnessed her life torn apart once - I don't relish seeing it again. _"He's busy, I think," I reply noncommittally. "Lawyer stuff," I add as an afterthought.

"Your lucky to have him, you and your father." She smiles fondly at dad over my shoulder.

"Yeah," I say, feeling bile rise to the back of my throat.

Hisao looks up at me, his eyebrow cocked. Unlike my parents my boyfriend is able to read me. Giving his hand a squeeze I try for a reassuring smile, which he returns nervously.

"Miura Miki." A voice announces as the courtroom door opens with a creek. "Court will resume shortly, please return to your seat."

_Deciding this quickly is a good sign right?_

I pause just long enough to give each person a tight - perhaps goodbye - hug, before striding towards my fate with my head held high.

— — —

A bead of cold sweat trickles down my back as I watch the judges agonisingly slowly return to their seats. Why we must endure this unnecessary ceremony every time court resumes is beyond me. _If they are to old to get back to their chairs in a timely manner then they should be wheeled in and out on them. _Biting my bottom lip I want to scream in frustration.

I hold the end of my stump to stop my hand from trembling as I and the rest of the room bow to the judges who have finally arrived in front of their seats. Sitting down I hug my chest, pressing my stump into my armpit in an attempt to ward off the prickling pain.

"Good afternoon ladies and gentlemen," the head judge says, nodding at the assembled parties. "We have discussed the case, looking at the evidence and testimony presented before us and we have reached a unanimous verdict." His gaze settles on me; expression unreadable. "Please rise Miss Miura."

Grandad nods solemnly as I rise shakily to my feet. I have to fight of a sudden insane urge to run as I lift my face to gaze up at the assembled judges. _I bet I could reach the carpark before I'm arrested. _

"On the charge of perjury as described in article one-six-nine of the penal code we find the defendant guilty."

My throat suddenly feels very dry, I knew they would find me guilty. _How could they not? I confessed. _But to hear it echo through the courtroom, is terrifying.

"Sentencing for this case was extremely difficult." The judge continues, placing his fingertips together thoughtfully. "Clearly the defendant acted in a premeditated manner. She has through her actions wasted the time of police forces in two provinces."

I turn desperately to Hisao, who I'm shocked to discover is biting down on his index finger, eyes wide. Beside him Ikuno has a hand over her mouth, her face pale.

"However, given the emotional state of the defendant at the time of the offence and the clear remorse she has shown afterwards leads us to conclude that a custodial sentence will not be appropriate in this case."

"Woo!" The sound of Ryouta's celebration rings through the stuffy hall, followed by the fleshly slap as he hastily covers his mouth. I almost laugh out loud, only managing to stop myself with my own sweaty palm. Still, I can't keep the smile from my face, this feeling of relief of all the tension and worry escaping me is more euphoric than winning a thousand sprints.

"Yes, thank you." The judge says sternly, but I notice the corners of his mouth twitch. "We here by sentence the defendant to pay twenty thousand Yenin fines. Payment of which is to be organised with the clerk of the court before you leave today."

I nod, the amount of money I was just fined going completely over my head. _Who cares? _I'm free, I can graduate, I won't be left behind this time. I can follow Hisao to university! I'm so distracted by images of the future that now lies ahead of me that I nearly jump out of my skin as grandad places an aged hand on my shoulder.

"Miki." I turn slowly, staring defiantly into his amethyst eyes. "I will handle the fine. You..." He hesitates. "You can leave if you want to."

"I…" What do I say? Thank you? _I don't feel grateful at the moment, at least, not to him. _"I don't want to see you again." My voice breaks, and I can no longer hold his gaze.

He drops his head. "I understand, but I promise that from this day onwards I will do everything in my power to earn your forgiveness."

I shrug. "You're not going to get it." Gulping I continue. "Do I have to be the one to explain what you've done to mum and dad?"

He shakes his head. "No."

"Then… Thank you and goodbye grandad."

Before he can say any more I turn, striding away from my past towards my future and the people I want in it.

—

"You know none of this would have happened if you'd just told the truth in the first place."

"Ryouta!" Ikuno squeals, slapping his arm.

"No, he's right." I say, meeting my parents' gaze as we walk out of the courthouse into the warm indigo sunset. "I'm never going to lie again."

"That sounds like a lie." Hisao grins, pulling me a little tighter against his side.

"I'm never going to lie about something so important." I correct myself.

"What do you want to do now?" Dad asks from behind me. He still needs a walking stick to get around, but he's recovered remarkably since his stroke and the removal of the tumor which caused it.

"Honestly? I'm starving."

"Excellent," Ryouta announces. "Ikuno says she's paying, in celebration of getting her best friend back."

"I..." she scowls at her boyfriend before catching my eye and breaking into a smile.

And just like that I know we are friends again. I'm under no illusions that we don't still have things to work out, but after today - hell after the last few weeks since I confessed - to still have people around me is indescribable.

"Fine, I suppose we all have reasons to celebrate." She winks.

We do. And reasons to grieve, my parents don't yet know what has been done to them. But they will, and I don't know what it's going to do to them, my mother in particular. And despite my victory today I still haven't forgotten the crash that changed my life forever, I will carry the weight of how I came to Yamaku until the end of my days.

Going forward I don't know what's going to happen. There is so much that could go wrong, but there's also hope that everything is going to be alright. I'm sprinting towards a goal that I can't clearly see, but I'm not in this race alone anymore. The path may become rocky, or it may smooth out. Change is unavoidable.

But as someone once told me.

Not all change is bad.


End file.
